The growing dismay
Of a wearying day
No more for her.
Through ancient release
In softest peace
Without a stir
She Stays. She stays!
I count the ways
She's lost to me.
Then turn my head
And cry instead
Too quietly.
-Sada Applebaum
Of a wearying day
No more for her.
Through ancient release
In softest peace
Without a stir
She Stays. She stays!
I count the ways
She's lost to me.
Then turn my head
And cry instead
Too quietly.
-Sada Applebaum
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