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Aldo Kraas posted in the group National Poetry Month
Give me a cup of your silence
Spare me some love, Fidelis—
the way a beggar spares a coin
from the hand of a saint,
or rain spares one roof
while drowning the village.
Give me what you have left
after you have fed the wolves,
after your heart has paid its taxes
to every stranger
who called it home.
I do not ask for the moon.
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Love this.