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teen poem

a little peach in the orchard grew
star-dust and vaporous light
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
by the shore, by the sea
i am fevered
one sweetly solemn thought
there is an hour of peaceful rest
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
as evening falls
perhaps it is no matter that you died
daughters of time
as a white candle

 



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