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the earth keeps some vibration going
the snow whispers about me
do you remember
high walls and huge
made up of loveliness alone
my soul is a dark ploughed field
where shall i find you
the poets tell
all quiet along the potomac
at dawn, he said
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
high-born race
let us pity those who are better off than we are

 



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