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family poetry

darkest, strangest mystery
in their ragged regimentals
come down at dawn from windless hills
splendid and terrible your love
it was many and many a year ago
she might have known it in the earlier spring
i burn no incense
he'd even have his joke
mysterious night
the hypocritic days
quietly, with reverance, in awe
i said, i have shut my heart
have we no shame?

 



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