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pumpkin poem

i have to say good-night
i gazed upon the glorious sky
the shadows of the ships
a very remarkable history this is
in his guarded tent
i loved a woman
this ancient silver bowl of mine
three years ago today
softly weeping
i make my shroud, but no one knows
but i cannot read you now
through the broad earth's aching breast
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
the old songs

 



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