These have been the days

These have been the days

of the cloudless skies,

intensely blue,

no sign of white;

at first a delight

but now I feel

unsettled by the empty space -

will it swallow my mind,

will the land dry up?

 

This was the week

when the gold bars fell

on a misty morn,

which Luck let me see;

they hung in the air

and they moved as I walked;

they were cast by the sun

and they sing in my thoughts.

 

This has been the time

of reflection great;

a cloth of mental calm

has sat in my head;

I wandered through life,

a silent ghost,

but I sensed life still.

 

This is a poem

to capture a strand

of a travelling train,

paused only in sleep,

that lives peaks and troughs;

I have tried to step back

from everyday tasks

and enjoy

an expression of my world.

The End

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