Recycle
B
Barry Middleton
0
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Lonely rivers do not grieve
but flow to mother sea.
The lonely life that I must leave
conspires to set me free.
The river passes by a brook
and takes its living there
and does not lend a backward look
and has no sense to care.
A river and a man are one
and go the way they must.
When eulogy is said and done
the waters are a trust.
A borrowed soul will bless the sand
collected at the sea;
the skeletal remains of man
are setting fishes free.
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