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happy birthday poem

there's one that i once loved so much
sweet with fern and rose
i reside at table mountain
i am dying
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
love has been sung a thousand ways
she heard the children playing in the sun
we lay
in his guarded tent
she limps with halting painful pace
i do not pray for peace
they in the darkness gather and ask
i know not where

 



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