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graduation poem

perhaps it is no matter that you died
little park that i pass through
up from the south at break of day
a few more windy days
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
arched the flood
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
be not angry with me
a very remarkable history this is
come down at dawn from windless hills
give me
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
we were not many

 



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