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grandma poem

softly weeping
one with you
quietly, with reverance, in awe
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
i am the wind that wavers
i love my hour of wind and light
white foam flower, red flame flower
why do
i stood by the open casement
a bird sang
when i was a boy at college
what do i owe to you
i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones

 



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