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 The Garden Wall by Denise Levertov 
						Bricks of the wall, so much older than the house -
 taken I think from a farm pulled down
 when the street was built -
 narrow bricks of another century.
 
 Modestly, though laid with panels and parapets,
 a wall behind the flowers -
 roses and hollyhocks, the silver
 pods of lupine, sweet-tasting
 phlox, gray
 lavender -
 unnoticed -
 but I discovered
 the colors in the wall that woke
 when spray from the hose
 played on its pocks and warts -
 
 a hazy red, a
 grain gold, a mauve
 of small shadows, sprung
 from the quiet dry brown -
 archetype
 of the world always a step
 beyond the world, that can't
 be looked for, only
 as the eye wanders,
 found.
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