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The Wait MAG
December 6, 2010
I waited by the silent hills,
In vain the hours passed;
As moon and sun hid and sought –
Memories turned to dust.
Where you are, and when you shall
Come back, I do not know;
When to wake and when to sleep –
Unknown, where shall I go?
As gold faltered to ashes, still
I wait to see, believe:
Oh, little bird, you have flown away,
Far, far away from me.
© Ashley T., Westport, MA
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