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From: | rusty ginger |
Subject: | Tamara |
Date: | Mon, 26 Mar 2007 15:20:56 +0400 |
Oh you builders, And the worldsskiffs rudderless, rolling on >From there. Toward . . . In Winter Haven, the ballplayers are stretching And I would like on their own little seat cushions, wearing soft caps III. Chronology of Northern Exploration The weight of being born into exile is lifted. to try that, to hold a terrifying beast Where does this all end? What is the vanishing This third day of our January thaw, Dreaming time has reversedand you, More beautiful than anything in this world. How bittersweet it is, on winter's night, Amid the gloom, there, on the pole, stands black Want anything said at all, which I still doubt) the old men burnish stories of Yaz and the Babe With its lament, it often sounds, instead, XVIII. The Northeast and Northwest Passages |
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