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baby poem

there was a time in former years
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
the air is full of dawn and spring
out of me unworthy and unknown
beneath my window in a city street
i think it just splendid
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
beautiful
softly now the light of day
i gazed upon the glorious sky
which i wish to remark
a mile behind
i am fevered

 



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