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family poetry

he came and took me by the hand
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
i've won the race
hang no wreath
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
i love my life, but not too well
who will be naming the wind
it tells of good old times
therefore i may not
as i lie roofed in, screened in
i do not pray for peace
there is no escape by the river

 



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