I’m copying down my memories.
Old visions are not all good ones.
The spring sunlight that warms my fingers
also falls across today’s empty bed.

Between the window’s outside and inside
a fragment of the world is suspended.
As I reach to touch it
the beautiful thing gallops away.

I keep gazing at everything.
My heart reluctantly whispers
but love hushes it.

Today returns;
yesterday is a blur;
I can’t imagine the shape of tomorrow.

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