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teen poetry

i am a woman
stir
arched the flood
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
when freedom from her mountain height
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
sleep, gray brother of death
beautiful
a few more windy days
the pale day drowses on the western steep
which keeps
my son is dead and i am going blind
i heard the wind all day
see i give myself to you

 



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