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friendship poem

to clothe the fiery thought
friend, whose smile has come to be
all quiet along the potomac
softly now the light of day
sun and wind and beat of sea
there is no flock, however watched and tended
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
as evening falls
my soul is a dark ploughed field
death's nobility again
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges

 



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