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in the half light
of five o’clock
shadows bend and sway
while ego sleeps
in borrowed sheets
a world away
streaming light
of conscious flight
though none can hear
time – a frail illusion
of being here

as curtains fallen
o’er a dream
deny our need –
the weight of place
truth is clothed
in wonder –
moments left
of grace

a chirp
before the coffee spills
and thought becomes a sigh
fingers trace
a life replaced
with getting by

the taste
of names unspoken –
is solace to the soul
as five fifteen
is laid between
the living
and letting go

. . .