The graves of children
So – we died.
We flitted out of darkness.
Beeches bore witness,
as did the tiniest
of stones.
Night and stars streamed above us
where we lay buried –
along the road.
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So – we died.
We flitted out of darkness.
Beeches bore witness,
as did the tiniest
of stones.
Night and stars streamed above us
where we lay buried –
along the road.
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