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sister poem

i do not pray for peace
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
what was it the engines said
we break the glass whose sacred wine
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
had he and i but met
so fallen
braided and woven
i see all human wits
where shall i find you
with the meek, brown eyes
i am a woman
splendid and terrible your love

 



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