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friend poem

i bid them all farewell
softly weeping
though i am little as all little things
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
when the wind works against us in the dark
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
within my hand i hold
i had over-prepared the event
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb

 



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