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thank you poem

for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
their beautiful hair
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
the old west, the old time
one with you
wheel me down by the meadow
for then without
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
i am fevered
tell me less or tell me more
i am the wind that wavers
up and down he goes
and my name is truthful

 



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