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January 14, 2005 - A poem about Words, Friendship


Finally we find more than words
And they sing like wineglass bells
Beneath the cold stoke of night
That calls our circumvented soul
Deep as moss, high as swallow call
Like wistful sighs in the steamroom
Or a child’s lonely cry in the mall
Buoyed against our wanderings
More than tone, more than sound
Your voice alone was waiting
With such wisdom to be heard.


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