Cradled In The Dust
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
0
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Cradled in the dust
Almost
Almost amongst a cobweb
My mother’s last
Hair-comb
The white hair
I kissed
On my knees
I feel
And my hands trembled
I will not exchange
I will not exchange
Mother in the dust
Others more aged
Still
Breathe and live and smile
But
Your face red
And
Lips of red
With tears
Bu şiiri puanla
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