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Now I stand before houses seton our secret trail, the haunt of arrowheadsand lost Indians the color of small plums,rooms in which the new boys play, tamedby computers and a summer waste of games,where once, in these woods, we tasted wild fruit.
Now I stand before houses seton our secret trail, the haunt of arrowheadsand lost Indians the color of small plums,rooms in which the new boys play, tamedby computers and a summer waste of games,where once, in these woods, we tasted wild fruit.
