Monday, 23 April 2012
Don’t look back
As shadows creep from bushes,
To form that final, impenetrable dark.
The afterglow is burning
Vermillion, gold, ice-green.
The thrush still sings amid the cherry blossom.
When the blue midnight is alight with stars,
When moonlight silvers a summer sea,
Rest in peace.
© Gill Dunstan
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