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could it be

in the still
before counting –
the breeze
once a sigh
ashes
leaves
falling down
did we find
our redemption –
a silent retreat
once remembered
can ne’er be
unknown
from a moment
of light
is a flickered
permission –
sparks unto flame
unto stars
lighting the darkness
filling our night
was the place
we were found –
to begin

. . .