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friend poem

in their ragged regimentals
it was the autumn of the year
the air is like a butterfly
as i lie roofed in, screened in
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
she knows a cheap release
made up of loveliness alone
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
all those treasures that lie
love me at last, or if you will not
i saw with open eyes
the air is full of dawn and spring
simplicity

 



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