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friend poem

short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
made up of loveliness alone
sun stepped down from his golden throne
could we but know
earth travails
the ancient songs
at midnight
up from the meadows rich with corn
stern cold man
in halls of sleep you wandered by
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
do you hear the rain?

 



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