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told me once
but I don’t recall
names and faces
line the hall
someone I’ve forgotten
to remember
a story passed
from son to son
a daughter came
the only one
to see beyond
the circumstance
of fences

broken by this
getting on
healed by hands
tired and worn
graces said before
the lay me down
to hear again
the sacred drum
beat with wonder
I’ve become
the answer to another
sweet amen

a fate decided
while I slept
reminders of a secret kept
and choices made
was there no choice
at all
but take of life
a moment more
of passions
locked away before
somewhere I was sure
you’d never find

a future folded
nice and neat
against the sunshine
of my sheets
way back on the shelf
of memory
dreams of people
I don’t know
crowding round to let me go
kisses where
the curtains touch
the ground

tell me how it seemed to you
give me something
I can do
speak of places
one last time
to leave

dirty dishes
worn out rhyme
but I don’t care
they warm against
the places
you were there
taking notes
and stealing time
with promises
to fit with mine
lines to cross
of one

. . .

Author’s Note: While coffee is my drink of choice, I periodically
indulge in a hot tea – white with orange. It brings me sweet slumber,
up until the time it wakes me up for a trip down the hall. But even then,
it’s not without the benefit of words. Writing in the dark.