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son poem

sing again the song you sung
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
the snow whispers about me
weak-winged is song
i bid them all farewell
babylon-where i go dreaming
i have heard that a certain princess
perhaps it is no matter that you died
in the dark and peace of my final bed
i stood by the open casement
the lightning flashed, and lifted
i am a woman

 



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