Tuesday, October 4, 2011


That weary souls can warm another's feet,
the pounding run of brothers, home to heat,
The pledge of joy in hand inert in hand,
that love which grows when two souls, weary, meet.

That objects I may make of objects mine,
thus giving life by giving life in time,
that life which, spoken, ever takes my name,
which, given, now is bridge to two soul's pain.

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