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So Mad Yet So Glad
Time occupies her beauty
Few gaze upon her in awe
Age like a winter day, too,
a wilted flower in May
I have the right to be mad, while differing
with gladness that befit past years...
A loving wife to him and lived to
bear children in his honor, only to
have death as in- kind payment
still loathing the ever-present clock that stopped.
O’ my how anger envies happiness
Every speck of contentment diverge, where to….
O’ how the heavens stores a thousand memories
Return, return, you wandering things ago:
when I fell into your open arms
Thence our arms making a whole…
As I sit swinging back and forth
Recalling summer breeze,
as wind blow away time,
minus delight in mid-ambiguity
May 16,2010
poem
by
Almedia Knight Oliver
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