How We Are Spared
- W.S. Merwin
At midsummer before dawn an orange light returns to the mountains
Like a great weight and small birds cry out
And bear it up
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How We Are Spared
On blue December mornings snow piles heavy against our thin oak door
Until it groans and later the lurching plow grumbles forth
And sets us free
How We Are Spared
Under grey foggy
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