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memorial poem

where shall i find you
some one complained to the master
night is dark, and the winter winds
no prey am i of poor thoughts
there is no flock, however watched and tended
a little peach in the orchard grew
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
i had over-prepared the event
in may
she said
all those treasures that lie
passing through huddled and ugly walls

 



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