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- Before Morning
- T.S. Elliot
- While all the East was weaving red with gray,
- the flowers at the window turned toward dawn,
- petal on petal, waiting for the day,
- fresh flowers, withered flowers, flowers of dawn.
- This morning’s flowers and flowers of yesterday
- their fragrance drifts across the room at dawn,
- fragrance of bloom and fragrance of decay,
- fresh flowers, withered flowers, flowers of dawn.
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