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RENDEZVOUS Read by Roma Liza Romero (audio not available) If the deep night is haunted,
it is I Who am the ghost; not the tall trees Nor the white moonlight slanting down like rain, Filling the hollows with bright pools of silver. A long train whistle serpentines around the hill Now shrill, now far away. Tell me, from what dark smoky terminal What train sets out for yesterday? Or, since our spirits take off and resume Their flesh as travelers their cloaks, O tell me where, In what age and what country you will come, That I may meet you there. |
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