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poem for dad

weak-winged is song
master of human destinies am i
the sun is up
world that changes under my hand
the darkness rolls upward
night is dark, and the winter winds
with her hair flaying wildly
made up of loveliness alone
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
glass-blower of time
i love to steal awhile away
in the dark and peace of my final bed
gingham dog and the calico cat

 



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