The Alan Sondheim Mail Archive


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i

when the moon's alone
it doesn't cast a shadow
there's no place for shadow
no place to rest

the memory of a shadow
it keeps on moving
it's looking for a home
it's fleeing from the light

ii

when the moon's alone
it doesn't bathe in light
there's no place in light
no place to travel

the memory of light
it keeps on moving
it's searching for a home
it's fleeing to the source


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