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short funny poem

that strange companion came on shuffling feet
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
were it not for that singular smell
old wine to drink
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
here falls no light
in mournful numbers
the child who threw away leaf after leaf
and how could you dream of meeting
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
with lips blood red and heart of stone
listen

 



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