"Poems are forever floating through my mind and if I don't catch them pin them to the page they are gone forever and what good is that?"
~ My journal (age 14)

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Aware

It is just a glimpse, really
a flutter of gold
a faery wing
or wind blown leaf
they are the same
time slows
the world glows
heartbeat of the pond
pulsates in ripples
the moment is fleeting
as they all are
but even so
the breeze has shorn
the dust off the pane
and for a breath
you were aware

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