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The table lamp A clipped lamp poured its light on light Twice it went to sleep and on waking up Its

sleep-weary eyes blinked in disbelief. A poem before dawn from knots of words On what rhymes with a green table light! Nothing rhymes with a table lamp right. Poetry of things comes from inner light. Its music is in the very nature of things, The way it trains its light on trite things.

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