Poem Text:
FOR JOAN MIRO; Living now, under the same Spanish sky,; I watch with wonderment the shapes that still; Swell, flush or surge in paint or clay,; From the unstemmable source. The wild will; Remains uncurbed and now the dark starred night; Holds more strange wonder than the farm(?); Did when first I saw, with all my first delight,; Your early work, the paintings that could charm... read more at RoGallery

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