We were the witnesses to the last slanting ray
Just a little gathering of old friends
Some said it was a forgetful day
Others were glad to see it come to end
But the few who witnessed were quiet
The two azaleas they understood
And while we thanked the slanting light
With old moss we took leave of the wood
And one by one we ascended spiders ladder
To ride the endless ray that slants forever higher.
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