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pumpkin poem

star-dust and vaporous light
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
there's one that i once loved so much
i can not tell you now
grieve not for the invisible
in the cloud-gray mornings
up to her chamber window
what spiteful chance steals unawares
there was a time in former years
brother, i am fire
the old west, the old time
noises that strive to tear
softly now the light of day
stuff of the moon

 



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