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A Heart's Talking
Good bye then,
I could not never pretend
To need to depend on anyone...
Goodbye, goodbye,
Let me climb my own tree,
I found it too
And you did not lead me to it
Nor can you climb it for me
Or make its highest branches
Any nearer...
The leaves are falling again
And I pick them up,
Just the same as anyone
Who can bend a little
To look for them...
I know- I save to much,
Upfront in my memory,
It is like an Attic-storing things
I may never use again
But cannot discard
Always keeping the past alive...
Being myself is something I must do,
Everyday-not now and then,
Or routinely five days a week...
The persistent hope of discovery
Sooner or later provides
A man who will always abide
By that which seems most perfect
And the nature of increase
Which is never satisfied...
©All Rights Reserved-2012
poem
by
Romeo Della Valle
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