12 March 2007

beginning summer time

what makes the day new is the early dark
the quiet time before the morning's rush
the time when there is still a stellar hush
we move through what seems a shaded park
no cocks will crow here and no dogs bark
we're far ahead of the bustle and the crush
with shadows all seems rich and lush
the cruelty of time has hidden its old mark
we know this is illusion know that the veil
will vanish with the sunrise and the return
of obligation service and the ever bright
young people who are eager to make sail
to reach those places for which they yearn
and forget quickly the promise of the night

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