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Teresa A. Phipps

adelaide crapsey

november night

Listen...

With faint dry sound,

Like steps of passing ghosts,

The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees

And fall.

amaze

I know

Not these my hands

And yet I think there was

A woman like me once had hands

Like these.

the companions

Three grey women walk with me

Fate and Grief and Misery

My fate brought grief; my grief must be

With me through Eternity.

Such thy power, memory.

Three grey women walk with me.

song

I make my shroud but no one knows,

So shimmering fine it is and fair,

With stitches set in even rows,

I make my shroud but no one knows.

In door-way where the lilac blows,

Humming a little wandering air,

I make my shroud and no one knows,

So shimmering fine it is and fair.

the immortal residue

Wouldst thou find my ashes? Look

In the pages of my book;

And as these thy hand doth turn,

Know here is my funeral urn.

non solo

The stars are up there in the sky,

I cannot tell the reason why,

Nor call a single one by name—

And yet I love them just the same.

The grass is cool and green and sweet,

I like its feel beneath my feet;

But why it's green and how it grows

I don't think anybody knows.

That human beings all should be

Is not a thing that troubles me,

I let the simple facts suffice,

We are—and most of us are nice.

The way a person's mind can change

From day to day is very strange,

Yet, though I only see it's true

I like variety—don't you?

Oh, many things I do not know;

It's rather nice to have it so.

The Universe is heaps of fun

If I can't say how it is run.

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