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friend poem

be in me as the eternal moods
my soul is a dark ploughed field
stuff of the moon
all within and all without me
i had a dream and i awoke with it
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
listen
up from the south at break of day
sing again the song you sung
perhaps
i saw him once before
in halls of sleep you wandered by
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
as a white candle

 



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