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Back Yard

 Shine on, O moon of summer.
Shine to the leaves of grass, catalpa and oak, All silver under your rain to-night.
An Italian boy is sending songs to you to-night from an accordion.
A Polish boy is out with his best girl; they marry next month; to-night they are throwing you kisses.
An old man next door is dreaming over a sheen that sits in a cherry tree in his back yard.
The clocks say I must go--I stay here sitting on the back porch drinking white thoughts you rain down.
Shine on, O moon, Shake out more and more silver changes.

Poem by Carl Sandburg
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