Array
(
[sid] => 185158
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => A Note To Death
[time] => 2018-05-28 22:01:52
[hometext] => Hello
[bodytext] =>
Death, you flitting mockingbird.
When does beauty pause but for your stilling.
Tip tap your beak on the window I notice now,
though in limbs and winds I’ve always known you’re there.
Having pierced the veil, seen behind your wings,
there is no fear to torment me;
Death, you are nothing.
[comments] => 4
[counter] => 135
[topic] => 27
[informant] => invierno
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 0
[ratings] => 0
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => NaturePoetry
)
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