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Moments
Far too often we say... this or that is mine
Eyes on moments we value too cheaply
A word or sentence released to relieve
Severs or chills and moments fall, wasting
A dream or ambition gives power and pride
Lives surge brightly into the promising sky
And monuments and towers are raised
Division is underplayed, and wounds open
A child’s need, youth’s flight, age’s wry regret
Bleed away moment by moment unnoticed
A kiss in haste, and tender words unspoken
Leaves on the Sycamore turn slowly to red
‘til a voice mumbles horror down the phone
and moments too real crowd suddenly in..
When did we last walk down by the riverside
Far from the smoke and the dust, you and I?
11 09 08
poem
by
Jim Hogg
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