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the end :: dorothea lasky

by on April 22, 2015

Promising myself  I would not do this again
Is what kept me going

A friend told me to
And I listened

Taking a thing to the end of its life
Is what I was made to do

I think I am not attuned
To the things that breathe

Well that’s not true
I am in tune to breath and life

And little falls of  flowers

When the moon was high
I went out to the stream

And brought in the water
For my folks, my kin, my brethren

I brought in the greenish milk
To feed the ones who were already dying

Oh did they go
Oh I do not know

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From → poems

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