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friendship poem

friend, whose smile has come to be
no prey am i of poor thoughts
and my name is truthful
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
sadly speaking
to come so soon to this imagined dark
the air is full of dawn and spring
though love repine, and reason chafe
now for a brisk and cheerful fight
braided and woven
i am singing to you
rising moon has hid the stars
roses and gold
when the wind works against us in the dark

 



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