Tuesday, February 10, 2015


Like silks in the air,
Like pods on the breeze,
Our final words
No eye can see.
The things we said,
Or never did
Are but the sun
When day has fled.
The clouds are dead
The hours gone,
I listen for
The notes of dawn.
I miss your heart,
The heart I knew
The dove that took
Its life and flew.

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