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grandma poem

the darkness rolls upward
when i returned at sunset
i have to say good-night
do not turn your head
i do not pray for peace
i love to steal awhile away
sadly speaking
let us express our baser passions
perhaps it is no matter that you died
the lightning flashed, and lifted
day is done
made up of loveliness alone
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
i reside at table mountain

 



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