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when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
with her hair flaying wildly
desolate and lone
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
the lightning flashed, and lifted
my son is dead and i am going blind
what spiteful chance steals unawares
a mist was driving down
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
in halls of sleep you wandered by
could we but know
stir
my mother twines me roses wet with dew

 



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