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footprint poem

there was never a sound beside the wood but one
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
i have heard that a certain princess
lived by the river-side
is there anybody there
i bid them all farewell
when i returned at sunset
we who stood
lady, your heart has turned to dust
stuff of the moon
you say you love me
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon

 



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