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Wednesday, January 28, 2009


As darkness falls
Through healing time
From once it calls
The wayward mind
Unkempt to dream
The present past
Slip of the tongue
Now holding fast
Of steady few
The light above
From whence we knew
That sacred love
And cast to wander
Those silver streams
Of sleepless nights
For all it seems
Perchance to dream
And left behind
The stillness calls
And sunset blinds
A change of seasons
To carry through
The ocean pales
From what we knew

David L. Bowman