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father poem

no prey am i of poor thoughts
with her hair flaying wildly
rose and amber was the sunset on the river
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
under dusky laurel leaf
the sun is up
the meadow was creeping
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
the shadows of the ships
noises that strive to tear
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong

 



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