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A Meeting

 In a dream I meet
my dead friend.
He has, I know, gone long and far, and yet he is the same for the dead are changeless.
They grow no older.
It is I who have changed, grown strange to what I was.
Yet I, the changed one, ask: "How you been?" He grins and looks at me.
"I been eating peaches off some mighty fine trees.

by Wendell Berry
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