Shooting Blinks


.
Suns fade quicker when back’s turned.
Dawns risen tastier yearned.
The shade’s darker beneath the tree.
Yet it is we who choose to be, there and then.
Forever then never ends, only now, not if or when.
Blinks miss winks, parch quenched, only now to see.
Suns fade brighter when dawn’s earned, risen and turned.

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