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grandma poem

there are gains for all our losses
my soul is a dark ploughed field
with the sunset
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
what was it the engines said
i love my hour of wind and light
babylon-where i go dreaming
lady, your heart has turned to dust
grieve not for the invisible
i had a dream and i awoke with it
in the cloud-gray mornings
when a deed is done for freedom

 



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