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Morning Countdown

Lavender Lavender Lavender

The smell of her a reminder of how only in memories I will find her

Time blurs the images of those times and as I age I grow blinder

All life has a destination preset but on a different timer

Some countdown on clocks; others in sands

The grains slip through their fingers as they count the seconds down with their hands

Ten goes by too fast

Cats have too many lives

The rotation of infinity becomes finite

We are not so lucky to have second tries

I somehow still know your here

Not one of my senses though my dear

If all clovers grew like this

The third time would not be the charm

Just us entwined forever

Not much time remains till the alarm

Another dream from which I’m awoke

&

Another morning without you.

©The Sad Owl

Categories: poetry

Tagged as:

The Sad Owl

I'm just here. Until I'm not.

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