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poetry

Armistice

Your coat was old and your lips were haggered then.

Untitled

Like a crowding herd of clouds that low

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No sedative can soothe the heart

Untitled

Riddle me, Sweet, how you who had

Pine

Torn not by sudden gales

Madness

Did you ever ask yourself

Tribute

Where violets on the campus hide

Bubbles

The bird jumped at the bubbles

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