Isola Poetry

January 18 - Manhattan
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Augury

I am a flute whose melody
floats throughout the world
My little reed I play
according to my will

I pipe a tune I hope is sweet
refining sound upon the ears
Without your kiss my song remiss
throughout my mortal years

Yearning for my field of green
betimes I breathe lamented strains
Knowest I we’ll meet again
our breath bemingled in one stream
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