Still there may be
Soothing thoughts
Sprung from
You, man
Suffering
Yet to bow
To a prince
Lee thrown
A soul be
Which
Cannot be soled
But narrow- scaped
From a ledger
Demain
Foot -held
To conjure
The valley dew
Yea, though
To walk
Mist- prismed
Into the shadows
Of mourning
Tom McGlynn
copyright 2013
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