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teen poem

a little peach in the orchard grew
i said, i have shut my heart
splendid and terrible your love
backward, turn backward
he's gone
wheel me down by the meadow
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
melancholy days have come
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
she must go back, she said
the darkness
the mountains they are silent folk

 



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