heights glow, burn
sentinels to lost time
mourning for minutes
in morning hours
shadow plays upon
the temple skin
blinding and warming
in its absence
half slumber slips
past possible matches
and briefcase cars
dwelling stale
gray dwindles in
rivers of burdens
flowing in ticks of
the impetuous revolution
shadows cease their
dance upon the temple
with loss of
solar contribution
a day lent for a second
or sixty times sixty more
a day to clean, to ponder,
to forgive or to explore
in loving someone never met
and in loving one never to forget...
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