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the daylight
grows dimmer
with every october
tho the nightbirds sing louder
this spring
a reminder of counting
the miles to forever
broken old crosses –
lacey white wings

it seems but a moment
backward forgiving
to a place just the same –
starting again
hands held aloft
pleading with heaven
for one more tomorrow –
another amen

a quiet surrender
of midnight
and morning –
is washed from the sun
by a river of tears
recalled at the end
as a time ne’er forsaken –
when love glowed the path
of our way
back to here

. . .