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Poem

Vasant Abaji Dahake

The Fine Grain of My Days

Through this evening’s window,
through tranquil eyes I watch
on the far road a scene of slaughter:
each day gathered up to be winnowed.
Here’s the fine grain of my days,
the wind-tossed, gentle chaff.

THE FINE GRAIN OF MY DAYS

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The Fine Grain of My Days

Through this evening’s window,
through tranquil eyes I watch
on the far road a scene of slaughter:
each day gathered up to be winnowed.
Here’s the fine grain of my days,
the wind-tossed, gentle chaff.

The Fine Grain of My Days

Through this evening’s window,
through tranquil eyes I watch
on the far road a scene of slaughter:
each day gathered up to be winnowed.
Here’s the fine grain of my days,
the wind-tossed, gentle chaff.
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