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This poem is taken from Poetry Nation 2 Number 2, 1974.

After A Time Elizabeth Jennings
(for a friend dead two years)

I have not stood at this grave nor have I
Been where men come at last to silence when
Death sends them to instinctive ceremony,
Whether in torturing sun or fitting rain,
Whether they stare or cry.

What do I say who never put a wreath
Down for a father or this friend? Someone
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