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sympathy poem

with her hair flaying wildly
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
listen
above them all, looking down
the shadows of the ships
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
braided and woven
i stood by the open casement
sweet and strong
better than granite
the fragrance came
sweet with fern and rose
in your arms was still delight
they may talk of love in a cottage

 



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