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Poetry
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| Lifecycle | |
| By IainMacraith | ||||
| 09 January 2007 | ||||
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Lifecycle Your patient rock garden kills time For kind, maternal hands to come; While its childlike, hopeful flowers Still open brave faces by day. Yes, this ground, where you last gave birth Remembers; as Catholics should Your children grew up, and you old, Naturally mothering nature. Baton passed, you went, with hymn, to Share a new bed and start again To square the circle; which gives me Faith to hope and cause to hold a pen
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