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friend poem

her face is fair and smooth and fine
uplifting, as the wind blew
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
you are my companion
when freedom from her mountain height
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
do not grieve that it is over
here lies a most beautiful lady
often i think of the beautiful town
i have to say good-night
in mournful numbers
take my bracelets
i love my hour of wind and light

 



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