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A Season
Moving through London
A tide receding
The moon leaves me
A blue season ends
As I pass the many faces
Finding focus in others eyes
Searching a reflection
To see myself defined
In seven days I see
A fiction that I started
Some years ago, a trend
Now falling undefended.
I have my life to consider
That’s all any really have
When we broke our hearts
So long ago, I lost who I am.
So I’m sitting here at dinner
Alone among millions
Thinking, writing and waiting,
It’s all I think I am.
I left at the oasis
Down Shaftsbury avenue
To gape at an admired pace
Falling out of view
He’s swinging his umbrella
In his right hand as he walks
I wonder if he’s thinking
What he saw in the eyes of the lost.
He disappeared into my words
Reminding me of you
When once I saw the space
So small between us two
I’ve run; I’ve walked
I pine and stare
To live a life for this
I cannot bear.
Run away and hide
Familiar is my life
But sickened by this pilgrimage
No end can I confide.
I’ll look for you again
My friend I pray you’re there
For me in a sun rising
Where a blue season ends.
poem
by
Stuart Knapp
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