Several days a month you made
The mile to my house,
And had me do a stroll with you.
Far below a furry moon
Our purposes crossed
The weird divide
Between our kinds
The silver leaves of ailing trees
Took flights as we passed so long ago
But a short time I know.
It pleases me this memory
Has swollen up with age.
Even time can do
Good things to you
Writer(s): James Russell Mercer
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