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Walking with an old familiar friend
Out till evenings end
Burnt by the words of the way
Out of things to say
Seeing of the day
In this old familiar way
Holding out gaze
Upon the west
Tired from the undulating strain
The up and down again
Clapping to the sound of a pigeons wing
Before it starts to sing
Seeing of the day
In this old familiar way
Holding out gaze
Upon the west
The day folds softly to and end
Now's the time to descend
Walking with an old familiar friend
Out till evenings end
