Illusions

Dear things, I watch you flying
Far off across the sea;
You are not dead or dying,
You simply died to me.
But still in life's December,
My heart leaps up and sings,
For I with joy remember
The coloring of your wings.

Dear things, I watch you flying
Far off across the sea;
You are not dead or dying,
You simply died to me.
But still in life's December,
My heart leaps up and sings,
For I with joy remember
The coloring of your wings.
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