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mother poem

where shall i find you
my soul is a dark ploughed field
leave the lovely words unsaid
night is dark, and the winter winds
stay no more
before the solemn bronze saint
sing again the song you sung
have we no shame?
my son is dead and i am going blind
when i was broke in london
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
come down at dawn from windless hills
did you ever see an alligator

 



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