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grandma poem

be in me as the eternal moods
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
over the river they beckon to me
thou unrelenting past
awful truths these be
up to her chamber window
they in the darkness gather and ask
i reside at table mountain
in their ragged regimentals
softly now the light of day

 



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