" poem for the forgotten "

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: those that linger at the threshold :

i haven't seen you for days.
and who says

you'll recognize my face,
you'll recognize this place?

these, the paths.
they're hard to retrace.


the remnants of open space.
the gentle ways

memories will displace.
my memories of those fleeting moments;

gone past like dried summer flowers
floating across the wide plain in winter.

- c. bay milin -
- 11.13.04 -

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