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retirement poem

this is the arsenal
love has been sung a thousand ways
for then without
beside a stricken field
night was black and drear
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
soft as the bed in the earth
this is the ship of pearl
do not grieve that it is over
city that is not a city
i said
listen
often is it not so?
and so it goes

 



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