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You always flew on wings

adrift of sky and dreams,

A journey to find–

What was it you said?


It’s not enough to be alive,

If you don’t feel alive.


Yes, that was it.

So we watched you leave,

As the sun struggled

To get clear of the clouds,

At least, those were the lines

In the poem I wrote then.

But all I remember now

Is your back–

And how you didn’t turn

To wave goodbye.