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duck river

how is it now
the past is come
scattered by the wind
hardened crumbs
were once a croissant
dreams we shared
with ne’er a thought
of sunset o’er the break
darkness settled deep
into our bones
houses kept apart
from joy
bliss we dared believe
the dawn would press
warmth to sleepy eyes
assurance of remember me
lest nothing else make sense
heaven held to shadows –
dusted yesterdays

. . .

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