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Dead.
Dead and yet
not forgotten
reminded of that summer
when she said
you see that tree
on that small island
in the lake?
yes you replied
taking in her eyes
that look outwards
the blueness
the brightness
and her hand
reaching out
for yours
glad of her presence
there alive
out of doors
and now knowing
she's gone
to some other place
maybe spiritual
out of sight
where none can see.
poem
by
Terry Collett
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