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Apr 2018
I dreamed that I was old: in stale declension  
Fallen from my prime, when company
Was mine, cat-nimbleness, and green invention,  
Before time took my leafy hours away.

My wisdom, ripe with body’s ruin, found  
Itself **** recompense for what was lost
In false exchange: since wisdom in the ground  
Has no apocalypse or pentecost.

I wept for my youth, sweet passionate young thought,
And cozy women dead that by my side  
Once lay: I wept with bitter longing, not  
Remembering how in my youth I cried.
Sharing a favorite poet.
Mary-Eliz
Written by
Mary-Eliz  Virginia
(Virginia)   
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