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poem for dad

i sometimes wonder if it's really true
moonlight deep and tender
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
here falls no light
looking beyond
these be
i am dying
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
made up of loveliness alone
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
world that changes under my hand
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be

 



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