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1949—2004
I had come in time to walk a fencerow
to a greenway too but you were home there
and both of us saw women make supper
in a summer kitchen and the drippings
the cattle and the chickens go away
and a farm as well but you were home there
so underwent the end of the olden
with a mind that could not take much fraying
because you were only a ward while I
was meant to know the unnamed pain in town
but you would find its root and name and put
them in writing until the late winter
the fabric of you wore through and you were
not there by the lake to keep you from you