so you were right, after

i wish it were a lie.

it won't be knit into
the pages of history
textbooks, but
it is still there.

and dew begins to fly
as the morning fades
into noon.

1 comment:

Beth Kephart said...

I know someone who should be reading this poem. Only he left the country and many friends, without so much as an explanation.And the dew does fly.

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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)