As requested in the comments on this post, a poem of my own.
His Lowered Head
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His Lowered Head What do I remember of springbesides the roar of the red
Masseysowing barley beyond the fenceand milk tasting slightly grassywith
the Holst...
1 week ago
3 comments:
Thanks, John! That's a poem I wish I'd written.
I mean, I wish I was the author of that poem.
You know what I mean.
You're welcome. I know what you mean. Thanks.
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