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anniversary poem

as i lie roofed in, screened in
day is done
i gazed upon the glorious sky
but alas, just dreams
her face is fair and smooth and fine
often i think of the beautiful town
my mother taught me that every night
in all things not spoken of
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
glass-blower of time
now for a brisk and cheerful fight

 



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