Ghosts
The morning moon, afloat now in the west
Is white and insubstantial as a cloud
So light is her impress
And vapour hangs about her like a shroud
She stuck around to greet the sun, before
Dissolving at the edges of the earth
Now to her score
Must be added all the miracle of birth
When she returns, as it is clear she must
She’ll differ from the vision of before
Take it on trust
It will be she, though there be less of her, or more
The day you left my orbit I believed
We’d each embarked upon divergent paths
But I have since received
An education in the nature of the past
The things that leave us don’t go far away
The more things change the more they stay the same
I begged you, stay
I had no reason to; the sense of you remained
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