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friendship poem

like eagles on up high
what do i owe to you
often is it not so?
babylon-where i go dreaming
on and on
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
tripping up, falling down
when night drifts along the streets of the city
the meadow was creeping
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
out of the deep and the dark
it was the autumn of the year

 



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