We Make Zines

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3 Kid's Poems (for my anthology of poems called "Moon Tea")

The Moon hides behind the hill.
The Wind hides in the trees.
The fireflies turn out their lights,
and all the owls take wing.

Everywhere it's quiet now
except me counting by fives;
"Ready or not, here I come!"
and then I open my eyes ...

...

I know my
ABC's
but not my
DEF's

...

William Tell,
William Tell,
draws his bow
in the orchard ...

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