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once before
the sun was burnt
against a winter sky –
as snowflakes fell
to hide the path of light
morning woke
within a shade
of charcoal
and shale –
poppies raised
their weary heads

prepared to greet
their savior –
a story all but told
how planets carved a path
around the moon
stars succumb
to melting
beneath the evergreens –
lies we reinvested
as the truth

deep within the
mystery unfurled
as lovers sought the start
of something new
to the splendor
of a world turned upside down –
timing slipped
to nothing
we could do

another time
some other life –
a morning much like this
is haunted by a memory
of the one –
a day when flowers drifted
across a winter black
searching out the shadows
for the sun

. . .

“I’ve never loved the wrong person, but I have loved the right people at the wrong time. The wrong life. The wrong moment.”