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halloween poem

still thirteen years
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
glooms of the live-oaks
one sweetly solemn thought
a few more windy days
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
i gazed upon the glorious sky
i loathed you
this is the ship of pearl
she was a beauty in the days
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead

 



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