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teen love poem

along a river-side
at dawn, he said
she might have known it in the earlier spring
this ancient silver bowl of mine
from our hidden places
when i go back to earth
up from the meadows rich with corn
no prey am i of poor thoughts
afraid no more, i say
my son is dead and i am going blind
there's one that i once loved so much
a mist was driving down

 



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