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mother poem

through the broad earth's aching breast
lady, your heart has turned to dust
see, they return
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
and still they walked on
gingham dog and the calico cat
world that changes under my hand
if i were very sure
tell me not
i am old and blind
she was a beauty in the days
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
the dawn was apple-green
full of tears

 



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