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Winter day.
Ma hart's near ta brak,
wen I remember ma daddy`;
Fightin, traying ta claim doun with me mum.
An tha uncles crayin, holdin em back, wisperen,
"Tha laddie, yer little laddie."
He trid to stratin he self a bit, gather back
Wha dignity he cou save.
Sum light, a little, com back ta his mad eyes.
He come an eld me clase then.
As we his body, he ca sheld me,
Sheld us, fome tha grave.
He trayed but cou'na stand,
An sat doun before me on ha ground.
His eyes looked up at me, he move is mouth.
Ba cou'na make na sound.
Then, he howled, such a wounded howl.
Torn in half, tha winters day.
An late at night, wen yella moon is brite,
I sumtimes howl that way.
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