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family poetry

if the red slayer think he slays
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
i loathed you
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
high-born race
i saw the first pear
three years ago today
were it not for that singular smell
above them all, looking down
gone are the three, those sisters rare
in the cloud-gray mornings
calm as that second summer

 



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