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No. I
Little bird, your songs can make a lover weep
So make the sacred lament a ritual of sunrise and sunset
Sing, pour into our heart
The stream of diamond tears
I still fear the loss of touch, taste and smell
What gross realities of lust unknown
To the mythic gryphon
Sing, for songs belong to the days of summer
And the winter is soon upon us.

© EdwardConnor