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May 24, 2006 22:36

"So was I once myself a swinger of birches. And so I dream of going back to be. It's when I'm in weary of considerations, and life is too much like a pathless wood where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs broken across it, and one eye is weeping from a twig's having lashed across it open. I'd like to get away from earth awhile and then ( Read more... )

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cheapinfection May 26 2006, 04:03:43 UTC
thats a really great poem. i love robert frost.

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