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teen poetry contest

do you hear the rain?
into the silent land
i stand in the cold gray weather
i reside at table mountain
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
i stood by the open casement
never in all my life
the meadow was creeping
white foam flower, red flame flower
the mountains they are silent folk
made up of loveliness alone
green afternoon serene and bright
not from the whole wide world

 



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