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left me here
the signs of age –
a road already known
the ways
of some
an ancient storm
and I
for one
could never guess
the wisdom
did he carry
would lift us up
some heaven

scattered ‘bout
these weary days
this plea
for something more
than e’er a place
of rhyme
could keep us fed
learned into
this passion
wherein your name
is writ –
folded fast
each page
upon my bed

sapphire tears
are hiden
by a questioning of light
of fear absolved
by love
I couldn’t say
of where I’d be
when morning found
me watching
for a sign
when worlds beyond
our knowing –
fall away

. . .