Mama, It Is Raining
Mama, it is raining, do you hear
There is no clothes wetting on the line
And leaking roof for me to repair
But I would yield all this dry of mine
If you were still, if you were still here
It would repair my peace of mind
To see the coals glow red with your breath
And smell the vapor of evening supper
The garnished fish and the mouth all wet
The bended knees and long solemn prayer
The sky as a vase with evening and sunset
Mama, memory fulls me now more than dinner
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