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(For My Aunts Pearl and Louise Who Died The Same Day This Week)
I weep for poems that went astray And people who seem long-gone as dust That some ill wind blew away eons ago, But they only now have died.
I weep as if for a stranger on a sinking ship or for That fraught overwrought final bearer at the eternal pall— We’re dead-fast running out of time And good simple souls and tissues for our tears.
rcs.
Current draft: 4/28/2010 Created on 4/26/2010 3:51 PM |
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Posted By Ron Southern to
The Rat Squeaks at 4/28/2010 09:56:00 AM
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