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family poem

my true love from her pillow rose
i do not pray for peace
three years ago today
from floor to ceiling
though i am little as all little things
day is done
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
daughters of time
there is no escape by the river
one sweetly solemn thought
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
i saw him once before
with the meek, brown eyes

 



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