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Passages

by Amanda Conlogue

and the wind blows
and the leaves quiver
sighing, always sighing
shaken loose, fluttering
down to rest
among slivers of grass
and I breathe, always breathing
as I watch, blinking
rays of light from my eyes
prisms shifting, turning
like pages in a book
like hands on a clock
tick-tock, oh, how the time passes

11/03/2003

Posted on 11/04/2003
Copyright © 2024 Amanda Conlogue

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