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birthday poem

the child who threw away leaf after leaf
the old west, the old time
i love my life, but not too well
though i am little as all little things
world that changes under my hand
your body's motion is like music
but alas, just dreams
now while my lips are living
eighty years have passed, and more
why do you always stand there shivering
here falls no light
there are gains for all our losses

 



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