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Mother, Father...

Magpies in the

cemetary;

I sit and remember

beneath the pines.

How cold the world

seems at times.

You were always

there.

Magpies in the cemetary --

the dogwood branches bare,

skeleton trees shrouded

by winter's chill.

I sit and remember.

Mother, father...

I miss you so.

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a
Written by
adelaide-caron-dyson
Published
Dec 3, 2010
Lines·Words
15·47
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