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Sep 2016
Grief is a giant that hangs over me,
A white plume of ghosts that won't leave me.
I was a child when grief first showed himself to me;
Stepped out from the shadows of my ceiling at night,
That white plume of ghosts bursting brilliant tears from my eyes.
Tabitha M Elledge
Written by
Tabitha M Elledge  Greensboro
(Greensboro)   
133
   Tryst
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