Poem by Lesbia Harford

* * *

Every night I hurry home to see
If a letter's there from you to me.
Every night I bow my head and say,
"There's no word at all from him today."

1. Closing Time: Public Library
2. He had served eighty masters. They'd have said
3. Child Sun
4. All through the day at my machine
5. You, whom the grave cannot bind

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