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short poem

these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
a thousand silent years ago
the shadows of the ships
perhaps it is no matter that you died
were it not for that singular smell
in an old chamber softly lit
when i was a boy at college
as i lie roofed in, screened in
i fill this cup
those black eyes i once so praised
to what shall a woman liken her beloved

 



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