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As You Are Now
Marjorie Allen Seiffert
Under golden boughs that lean and drift You lift your head, and ripples of light Touch the leaves till they quiver, Reaching down in a motionless Unachieved caress. The branches ache with their desire, And the wind holds its breath. The moment dies in a shiver Of icy fire—eternity and death. Then leaves fall softly on your head.