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Monday 11 November 2013

The Hours

Once, on another shore, I had eternity to waste.
Shed moments, careless as the wind-blown cherry blossom, bridal white, which 


the lawns in spring.  When did I cross the line where time, a shooting star,
burned fierce?  Was gone.  I yearn to grasp - but have let slip my hour.

© Gill Dunstan
All rights reserved

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