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daughter poem

there are three ways in which men take
the stars fell from heaven
therefore i may not
let a joy keep you
i know what you're going to say
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
uplifting, as the wind blew
when night drifts along the streets of the city
god
the snow whispers about me
let me move slowly through the street
before the solemn bronze saint
i burn no incense
have we no shame?

 



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