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graduation poem

sopra il fiume beckon a me
la festività reale è stata fatta
come le aquile sul high alto
il sole è in su
il giorno è fatto
felicità
era un oysterman giovane alto
chi chiamerà il vento
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
fiori dei bambini
la luce ritirata
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
passato inesorabile di thou

 



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