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MOTHER OF EXILES Emma, my cousin, Sleep your eternal peace. Our Mother of Exiles, On that blue september day, With mild eyes,beheld The desecration of the Golden Door. Her lamp burns dim, Choked with rolling dust, Overshadowed by the flames Bursting from the rubble. Sleep, Emma, sleep, She still stands... The inheritors of those she welcomed, Will build again. Constance Tupper September 21, 2001 |
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