Tuesday, 11 July 2017

1963

Beneath the purple clouds you and I
Danced on tender feet, 
Thrusting departing sleep 
Aside 
We would catch the breeze in 
Dawn's thinning light 
Scattering beneath each step
Dew fresh scents, offerings to the breaking day.

Littered paths have lead away from mulberry days
Casting us upon foreign shores,
Yet in the chorus of a dawn
There whispers yet
Laughter once celebrating
Nothing more than simple joy
Now a disparate benevolence  

Given on this morn.

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