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204 luCIlle gAng shulklAPPer Fury —for Mama My mother never forgave my father she sits at the foot of the bed. each lonely and earthly, wanting to be celestial. I went to them. And now I know Who hears the rain churning the forest to mud, Who had no guide, no stone, Where the bedclothes lie in stagnant coils on the bed. From you I want more than I’ve ever asked, In those years, people will say, we lost track. What was this world? Where things you never did have come in their slow way into An agitation of the air. Age may come, parting may come, death will come. Parents don’t want to face the children’s rage, I will you to see her as she was, to ride all the bright clouds and clusters, Of her hidden life A woman cornered, a plaintive shadow. ...

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