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All material on this site copyright 2020 by Yaacov David Shulman
His home was on a hill, one felt
It overlooked the stars, to us
It seemed a tent, something different,
But to the man who lived there,
It was we who moved, not he,
We would see lights twinkling there,
And now they shine down to the quay.
Yaacov David Shulman