Window Wind
I watched her walk through a window in the windThe air was still outside, a mist rose from the river's breast
Somewhere in the back rooms of your mind a tune
Played a song she sang so sad and sweet to hear
The precious stuff of dreams hidden away so dear
Like Life itself she seemed to go, taken by time away
Back to somewhere not even a dream may find
You watched her walk through a window in the wind...
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2014-07-23 at 12:59
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