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friend poem

long ago, in the young moonlight
we who stood
sun stepped down from his golden throne
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
i am dying
when i looked into your eyes
i have had one fear in my life
brief on a flying night
i stood by the open casement
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
it was a tall young oysterman
i am singing to you
perhaps

 



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