Aging Ladys Longing
Could love drift kindly into this fall
As gentle nearing winter’s drifting;
I gaze at your misty muddy workman’s face
Searching, wanting, searching.
Could love fall upon rushing age,
Is there possibility for me
Dare I wish, dare I wish,
Or must intelligence win its way?
Oh, no, I have longed for your timid caress,
Though hope of such is near crying,
May I dream of your wrinkled cherished smile,
Before dying, dying.
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