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mom poem

the mountains they are silent folk
a pen of steel
as it
i stand in the cold gray weather
soft as the bed in the earth
the child who threw away leaf after leaf
i saw with open eyes
what do i owe to you
the snow whispers about me
three years ago today
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
sad are they who know not love
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong

 



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