Poem by Lesbia Harford

* * *

You, whom the grave cannot bind,
Shall a song hold you?
Still you escape from the mesh
Spun to enfold you.
Your woven texture of flesh
Short time confined you.
Sib to the sun and the wind,
Shall a song bind you?

1. Summer Lightning
2. Do you remember still the little song
3. Machinist Talking
4. Child Sun
5. Pink eucalyptus flowers

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