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teen poetry

candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
i see all human wits
my soul is a dark ploughed field
glooms of the live-oaks
in halls of sleep you wandered by
i have known the silence of the stars and of the sea
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
last midnight
on and on
be not false
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor

 



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