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def poetry

i stood
there is an hour of peaceful rest
on and on
still thirteen years
to be able to see every side of every question
a thousand silent years ago
you are my companion
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
love me at last, or if you will not
i know not where
weak-winged is song
from our hidden places
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
over the river they beckon to me

 



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