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mom poem

i saw the first pear
when i returned at sunset
let us pity those who are better off than we are
there was a time in former years
which keeps
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
never in all my life
there were three in the meadow by the brook
i think it just splendid
at dawn, he said
see the tentative
three years ago today
the old west, the old time
tripping up, falling down

 



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