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mother daughter poem

it was many and many a year ago
the old west, the old time
when, full of warm and eager love
just as my fingers on these keys
have we no shame?
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
sleep, gray brother of death
my sorrow, when she's here with me
melancholy days have come
be not false
when i go back to earth
were it not for that singular smell

 



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