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... -
rose in the mate's binoculars
and caught on the horizon like a fly.
They named it. But my poor old island's still
un-rediscovered, un-renamable.
None of the books has ever got it right.
Well, I had fifty-two
miserable, small volanoes I could climb
with a few sli... |
| 2013-02-06 08:02:20 |
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