misswhistle
when i sing she doesn't care; when i whistle she looks at me expectantly
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Friday, November 30, 2012
Some Rilke for a Rain(er)y Friday
Pathways
Understand, I'll slip quietly
away from the noisy crowd
when I see the pale
stars rising, blooming, over the oaks.
I'll pursue solitary pathways
through the pale twilit meadows,
with only this one dream:
You come too.
-- Rainer Maria Rilke
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