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brother poem

the ancient songs
you say you love me
who is the runner in the skies
i said, i have shut my heart
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
my son is dead and i am going blind
moonlight deep and tender
her face is fair and smooth and fine
at midnight
under the harvest moon
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
i said

 



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