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Simple Anna liked the words

although she didn’t understand

what many of them meant. Her man

sometimes could make them into worlds

where forests shaded green young girls.

The girls were always what she was 

when what she was was what she dreamed. 

By herself she never dreamed, 

not any more. A woman does 

such daylight things to what she is.

The words could be some country tree 

and she again Anne Hathaway, 

complex with what she still could be 

while watching in an English shade 

with all of heaven as a stage.

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