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def poetry

but i cannot read you now
for truth, for love
which keeps
by the rude bridge
above them all, looking down
earth travails
i love my life, but not too well
my son is dead and i am going blind
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
winged shadows sweeping by
one sweetly solemn thought
why do
since, if you stood by my side today
in your flight

 



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