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death poem

under dusky laurel leaf
i can not tell you now
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
musing, between the sunset and the dark
the little white prayers
a mist was driving down
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
gone are the three, those sisters rare
had he and i but met
city that is not a city
i expect you
all down the years

 



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