The Departed Friend      
 
Though parted by pernicious fate
	 And left no solace when you left,
	 By your absence of solace bereft,
Yet still I loiter by the gate,

Looping hopes on echoes cool and slow
	 Of your departure seasons past;
	 When you went, you went at last
By going where you had to go.

Still I beside the gate am left,
	 Still I lean and lick the dust;
	 Still I wait, as still I must
Until some change unpains my breast.

The agile curfews of the night
	 That wipe away the palest day
	 And light's burning words lightly unsay
Cannot cross out what you left bright.

The moon that trod old empires down
	 Or saw two loves woo, two loves despair
	 Casts no changeful spell on my care
That carves the ages on my brow.

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Poems in pieces

by

 

 
Gregg Glory