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i miss you poem

i shake my hair in the wind of morning
last midnight
leave the lovely words unsaid
in the cloud-gray mornings
in halls of sleep you wandered by
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
one sweetly solemn thought
the long resounding marble corridors
as i lie roofed in, screened in
death's nobility again
be not angry with me
the old songs
earth travails

 



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