Flickering
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Come to me O breath of life
in silent room of flowered vase
with delicate cracks and age defined
the oaken floors worn of time
I find this place of two immersed
near crackling warmth of subtle hues
a place where time has come to slow
and winter's wrath of purity bestow
Come to me O breath of life
to hold one moment
in fire light...
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Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2012
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