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memorial poem

the darkness rolls upward
passing through huddled and ugly walls
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
i go my way complacently
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
love me at last, or if you will not
she heard the children playing in the sun
and my name is truthful
i love my life, but not too well
here lies a most beautiful lady

 



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