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grandmother poem

among the mountains i wandered
before the solemn bronze saint
perhaps it is no matter that you died
for truth, for love
in may
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
love has been sung a thousand ways
some of the hurts you have cured
thoughts through my head
stand here by my side
i love my life, but not too well
they in the darkness gather and ask
along the banks
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon

 



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