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mother poem

woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
softly now the light of day
you say you love me
the light withdrawn
all down the years
gone are the three, those sisters rare
be not angry with me
up and down he goes
i reside at table mountain
soft as the bed in the earth
it was a tall young oysterman
simply speaking
when i was broke in london

 



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