Monday, September 20, 2004

Imitative

I came upon a nightengale
by chance- the other eve-
When walking in the twilight
and soft Tranquility-

I stopped to keep her company
For we both were -quite alone.
Her song- though sweet- was tenuous,
Her melody- forlorn

At length she sought for other climes
And left me - to reflect on
The noises of the body
Made when the heart- is breaking

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