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father poem

blossoms of babies
but i cannot read you now
it was many and many a year ago
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
as a naked man i go
storm
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
let us plant
very well, you liberals
a pen of steel
music i heard with you was more than music
and how could you dream of meeting
melancholy, blue it was
have you heard

 



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