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cowboy poetry

up and down he goes
they ask me where i've been
you are my companion
why are the things that have no death
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
the long resounding marble corridors
did you ever hear of
the mountains they are silent folk
if it
see the tentative
for truth, for love
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
good woman
in an old chamber softly lit

 



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