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40 Long Distance Friends What have they gone to what have I done or made them do to me to leave me alone? Did I let them make me make them? What on earth can I do to help them? When will they creep like moonlight over stones? When will they pick up the telephone? Times they do call: more time between. When I think of them asleep I pretend they dream of me and wake, and comprehend they rhyme with each other they rhyme without cease they rhyme with the only rhyme in the book that rhymes with lonely, in the book of ages, in disappearing ink, and, even stranger, fellow boat lights that blink good night, good riddance, good and all alone, rocking boat lights constancy would frown upon, friends so far away night can’t hold on, or a day moon sawn in half, the best half gone, clouds out of the lovely south all alone, waves lapping up out of the lake alone, and sails tacking out this has-been afternoon clean as eyeteeth and friendly to no one, what have they gone to what have I done? ...

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