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teacher poem

muffled drum's sad roll has beat
weak-winged is song
what do i owe to you
shadows lay along broadway
in an old chamber softly lit
are you awake?
come down at dawn from windless hills
my sorrow, when she's here with me
since, if you stood by my side today
city that is not a city
before the solemn bronze saint
i love my life, but not too well
my mother taught me that every night

 



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