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Amma.
I write now with this pen
And the scene plays again
On the page of this letter
I must send to all my kin
This time was unseen
I never believed to exist
Since I had not known
Ever a time she could not resist
The colorful gown she wore
Yesterday with open eyes
She wears the same today
But is asleep to all life
She laughed the day
And smiled the night
She smiles still
Dark now her sight
And though she began me
I saw her end
How is it that my mother,
I could not defend
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This is a poem I wrote in the style of Emily Dickenson. It is not about my mother.