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kid poem

a flying word from here and there
there are three ways in which men take
i have heard them in the night
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
city that is not a city
he came and took me by the hand
i made a vow once, one only
i said
gone are the three, those sisters rare
i went up and down the streets
doubtless i remember still
when i looked into your eyes

 



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