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teen poem

do not turn your head
not from the whole wide world
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
to be able to see every side of every question
sweet with fern and rose
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
a little peach in the orchard grew
desolate and lone

 



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