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Those Years

those years of closed doors,
they must be over by now.

the days start to come in trickles
of light this early morning
bringing sweet memories of the moon
and the stars

the venetian blinds are dusted
molecules dance at the center stage
on such an immense light
as you sit and stare
and ponder like a new seed
breaking its own
shell

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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