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friend poem

the ships are lying in the bay
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
i saw with open eyes
there were three in the meadow by the brook
she heard the children playing in the sun
there are gains for all our losses
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
sleep, gray brother of death
take my bracelets
grieve not for the invisible
they ask me where i've been
like eagles on up high
love has been sung a thousand ways
the stars fell from heaven

 



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