Glimpses (12)

The past comes, fleeting, back in glimpses:

Places, people, faces, times —

Much that was is gone forever,

All that’s left are words and signs

 
Signs of wonder, words of meaning,

Times connected to the sun,

Life grows dense and tangled ever,

All so different,

Yet one

Author: Owen "Beleaguered" Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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