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child poem

the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
hang no wreath
come down at dawn from windless hills
i am singing to you
from floor to ceiling
and with the humming bird
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
as a white candle
it was many and many a year ago
i have had one fear in my life

 



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