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short poem

among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
it tells of good old times
for truth, for love
in new york harbor
gingham dog and the calico cat
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
star-dust and vaporous light
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
with the meek, brown eyes
i have heard them in the night
often i think of the beautiful town
i had over-prepared the event
stern cold man

 



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