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teacher poem

i make my shroud, but no one knows
you are my companion
not from the whole wide world
as evening falls
in your arms was still delight
one sweetly solemn thought
all quiet along the potomac
of sun nor stars
doubtless i remember still
birds against the april wind
i saw god. do you doubt it?
a mile behind
in september
though i am little as all little things

 



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