Читать книгу At the Great Door of Morning - Robert Hedin - Страница 19

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My Mother Turns Ninety

I should mention that all this time

It’s been getting darker, the light

So poor I can barely see my breath,

How everything now is tired

Of climbing, even the smoke rising

In great strides over the rooftops

Wants to lie down at rest with the rain.

At the Great Door of Morning

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