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wedding poetry

i said
brief on a flying night
all down the years
my son is dead and i am going blind
i made a vow once, one only
a mile behind
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
the air is like a butterfly
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
in the cloud-gray mornings
i have seen the proudest stars
babylon-where i go dreaming

 



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