My father was an orphan
My father was an orphan,
And so I was an orphan;
My father never knew his fathers name,
And so I never knew my fathers name.
My father lost his mother young,
And I also lost my mother young;
My life followed every curve of his,
And I could imagine, his battle to live.
His childhood was diffused in me,
Percolating down, his song of being-
But cells talk to cells, closer than breath,
And life learns life- in spite of death.
I was adopted at three days of age,
by my parents, who knew my birth mother,
and it was an arranged adoption- sort of
like an arranged marriage; and I consider
myself quite lucky how it all worked out.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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William Butler Yeats
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Rainer Maria Rilke
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