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i miss you poem

she knows a cheap release
the old west, the old time
little gate was reached at last
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
like eagles on up high
a look is but a ray
glass-blower of time
though i am little as all little things
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
i can not tell you now
but i cannot read you now
i am the wind that wavers
i stand in the cold gray weather
softly now the light of day

 



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