if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)haveone.  It will not be a pansy heaven nora fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley butit will be a heaven of blackred rosesmy father will be(deep like a rosetall like a rose)standing near my(swaying over hersilent)with eyes which are really petals and seenothing with the face of a poet really whichis a flower and not a face withhandswhich whisperThis is my beloved my          (suddenly in sunlighthe will bow,& the whole garden will bow)

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