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poem for pastors

i am old and blind
by the rude bridge
it was a tall young oysterman
you are clear
dear wife
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
i had a dream and i awoke with it
there is a country full of wine
little park that i pass through
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
do the boys and girls still go
i reside at table mountain

 



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