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short poem

do the boys and girls still go
under dusky laurel leaf
night is dark, and the winter winds
there is no escape by the river
gaily through the fields we danced
stern cold man
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
up from the south at break of day
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
come down at dawn from windless hills
your body's motion is like music

 



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