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Monday, August 5, 2002

For Ray on August 8
Sometimes I think I could have loved you,
Forget Tess, forget everyone, forget.
But it's not like when I was 10, and
Loved the Beatles from afar--No, I've learned
More about love now. What I
Love are your words--Your words
About love, about fishing, about water,
About being alone and not alone,
About talking and shouting, and
About regrets and hope.
Today I am sorry you're dead; I
Miss you. But we have your words;
As Shakespeare knew, the words live on.
As Keats knew, you are now forever young,
Frozen in time, as a human life must be;
It is the words, which come from the soul,
That know infinity,
And having seen it, fly on.

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