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mother daughter poem

una tormenta está montando en la marea
usted dice que usted me ama
ella oyó a niños el jugar en el sol
puesto que he sentido el sentido de la muerte
el mirar más allá
sea paciente, vida, cuando el amor está en la puerta
con los ojos mansos, marrones
las montañas son gente silenciosa
este tazón de fuente de plata antiguo el míos

 



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