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grandma poem

her face is fair and smooth and fine
see, they return
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
so fallen
since i have felt the sense of death
i heard the wind all day
i love my life, but not too well
if the red slayer think he slays
the poets tell
last midnight
i saw the first pear
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
above them all, looking down
like eagles on up high

 



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