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friend poem

who will be naming the wind
roses and gold
city that is not a city
rose and amber was the sunset on the river
she might have known it in the earlier spring
darkest, strangest mystery
over the river they beckon to me
in your flight
calm as that second summer
a life on the ocean wave
he came and took me by the hand
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
why then, must we see?

 



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