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mother poem

grieve not for the invisible
some of the hurts you have cured
the air is like a butterfly
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
the light withdrawn
all down the years
city that is not a city
from song and dream for ever gone
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
rising moon has hid the stars
leave the lovely words unsaid

 



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