January 1904

Ah the nights of this January,
when I sit and recreate those moments in my mind and I meet you,
and I hear our last words and I also hear the first.

Despairing nights of this January,
when the vision vanishes and leaves me bereft.
How it vanishes and quickly disolves-
gone are the trees, gone the streets, gone the houses, gone the lights;
your amorous face fades and is lost.


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