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Hedley Poetry from Prison /73 1 The onion is frozen stubborn and poor. Frost of your days and of my nights, great black cold and huge round frost. sung 2 In the cradle of hunger my child sleeps He is suckled on the blood of the onion. Yet its is your blood [sic] frosty with sugar onion and hunger. sung 3 A dark woman changed into a moon drop by drop spills herself bending over the cradle. Laugh, my son, drawing the moon towards you when it is needful. sp. Bird in my house 4 laugh out aloud.