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mother poem

all within and all without me
do you hear the rain?
with her hair flaying wildly
rocked in the cradle of the deep
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
sweet with fern and rose
the sun is up
beneath the warrior's helm
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
simplicity
i had a dream and i awoke with it
my sorrow, when she's here with me
along a river-side
at midnight

 



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