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5.00 Am poem
Curtains of night sky
fell hard in despair,
to furl them is to
compete with the pace
of tortoise shells,
for the clouds of the autumn
mornings has tough goals
to wake up early
to the beam of white light
of the sun's stroke...
fell hard in despair,
to furl them is to
compete with the pace
of tortoise shells,
for the clouds of the autumn
mornings has tough goals
to wake up early
to the beam of white light
of the sun's stroke...
