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mother poem

you are my companion
but i cannot read you now
night is dark, and the winter winds
there are gains for all our losses
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
stay no more
made up of loveliness alone
along a river-side
death's nobility again
therefore i may not
royal feast was done
what do i owe to you
which keeps
my son is dead and i am going blind

 



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