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baby shower poem

up and down he goes
here falls no light
so fallen
tripping up, falling down
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
the mountains they are silent folk
at midnight
in the dark and peace of my final bed
he'd even have his joke
when the hours of day are numbered
it was many and many a year ago
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
soft as the bed in the earth

 



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