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retirement poem

green afternoon serene and bright
it tells of good old times
in and of itself
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
there by the window in the old house
up and down he goes
god
see, they return
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
daughters of time
there is no escape by the river
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
i fill this cup

 



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