My Kindred Spirits
H
Herbert Nehrlich
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I dream about my travels,
through times long gone
and space now allocated
to those young bulls with horns.
A melancholy road ahead
is lined on either side
by fragrant leaves and stems,
with purple petals, moist of dew.
Those are my kindred spirits,
they neither wilt nor ever die,
a comfort should I need to cry.
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