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Being there.jpg

Being There (as he lay dying)


As long as the pulse of your heart

beats within your wrist,

and the wings of your soul

flutter In your frail hands,

and your smile sails forth

like a small boat

In the blue sea of your eyes,

on course to me, once more -

I’ll be there, waiting

like a crescent beach, 

In a safe harbor

where you can reach the shore.


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