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family poetry

love has been sung a thousand ways
love me at last, or if you will not
the sky
the saddest of the year
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
when night drifts along the streets of the city
do the boys and girls still go
sing again the song you sung
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
give me
in and of itself
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
i gazed upon the glorious sky

 



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