Trumpet Player (Langston Hughes Poems)
The NegroWith the trumpet at his lipsHas dark moons of wearinessBeneath his eyeswhere the smoldering memoryof slave shipsBlazed to the ...
The NegroWith the trumpet at his lipsHas dark moons of wearinessBeneath his eyeswhere the smoldering memoryof slave shipsBlazed to the ...
The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flame Until ...
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