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poetry

wonder
steals my breath away
waiting for the sun
was sure to come
– tho still I held
the night

closer than
a midnight prayer
urging me to go
out beyond
the meadow –
into flight

thought
you might have
missed me
when the oldest star
came round –
a warmth of something
feels the same
as love

twilight sweeps
across the lawn
where earlier
the dawn
slept beneath the trees
and dreamed
of us

. . .