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family poetry

wheel me down by the meadow
leave the lovely words unsaid
with the meek, brown eyes
just now
have you seen walking through the village
birds against the april wind
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
up from the south at break of day
see, from this counterfeit of him
why so sad my lovely one?
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
in his guarded tent

 



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