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A Memory follows into Tomorrow
I watch
as whispers
of smoke
curl up into
the stratosphere
then, it was as if
the night seemed to yawn,
a great mouth of darkness,
swallowed the day
another moment, was recorded
and cataloged
to be digested by the future
but always, held in a voided past
as the smoke
over history thickened
and night and day
turned to meet,
face to face
and back to back
I wondered why it is
that so many people
live in the past ?,
when we are all laying
over the silver hands
of a timepiece,
in a pocket
made of moments
shining up ahead
is a dreamtime of
‘Could Be’s’
and it awaits,
calling us all
into the fall of tomorrow
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