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teen poetry

just now
pushing out, struggling vainly
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
her face is fair and smooth and fine
it was a tall young oysterman
the dawn was apple-green
give me
listen to the sounding sea
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
do you hear the rain?
the mountains they are silent folk
this ancient silver bowl of mine

 



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