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brother poem

she said
sun stepped down from his golden throne
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
the child who threw away leaf after leaf
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
who is the runner in the skies
at dawn, he said
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
it tells of good old times

 



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