The morning’s unexcused
absence can lead to another,
then another, and
still another till
truncated days are
all we get. Our children’s
children will dream of civil
dawn the way we long
for a pristine shoreline, pine
forest, subway wall, guitar
riff. Saudade
for time of day
as much as for a place
or soul we never knew
renders us
human all over again.
This is so sweet and nostalgic. A relatable, lovely work. It strikes me as being very personal in some way.
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Thank you so much.
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