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mother daughter poem

the darkness rolls upward
the long resounding marble corridors
they in the darkness gather and ask
of sun nor stars
moonlight deep and tender
but alas, just dreams
i expect you
let me move slowly through the street
there is a city, builded by no hand
we who stood
the pale day drowses on the western steep
lady, your heart has turned to dust
perhaps it is no matter that you died

 



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