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16 july 2016
エマ・カークランド
across mountains--
houses in fog fields of pale grey
moisture clings to their walls;
strings of tiny stars
shining in dappled sunlight
and this, in the night--
like stars of joy, her brightness
far reaching
suffering and singing
amid the gathering starlight
morning finds me still--
ponder, as remnants
of finer things still tranquil;
sleep caught her.
these days i watch the sun rise
and set in time
lapsing while the mist creeps in
kaleidoscopic rays of glittering golden
pierce the comforting gloom;
shift once to block the glare
she sleeps on--
an age
of sleep and wisps of memory
nothing really has changed;
still i sit
a reminder of her
heretic, and uncaring--
yet gentler than any priest
-neither here nor there,
for when the time comes
she will wake from her dreaming
and i await her return
so i may fulfill the end.
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