that time loved

the day we moved, and you outside —
the sun you drank in as it left,
and everything: a groom, a bride —

but time, it steals. and with each theft
the missing adumbrates the soul,
then darker times: awash, bereft —

but that time loved: alive and whole,
you sat out in the fading light,
and nothing was about control,

just resting on the breeze, a kite —
there floating


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