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pumpkin poem

at midnight
she was a beauty in the days
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
and my name is truthful
why are the things that have no death
the meadow was creeping
now while my lips are living
there were three in the meadow by the brook
simply speaking
which i wish to remark
little park that i pass through
thou unrelenting past
quietly, with reverance, in awe
beautiful

 



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