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1880–1929

STONES

John Freeman

Small yellow stones That, lifted, through my idle fingers fall Leaving a score — And these I toss between the parted lips

Of the lapping sea, And the sea tosses again with millions more — Yellow and white stones; Then drawing back her snaky long waves all,

Leaves the stones Yellow and white upon the sandy shore.... As they were bones Yellow and white left on the silent shore

Of an unfoaming far unvisioned Sea.

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STONES · John Freeman · Poetry Cove