Monday 18 August 2014

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R.I.P. Ann

It is late, pooled darkness on my desk
Electricity does its best
To play the role of day prolonged
But Night and all its shades are strong.

It's at such moments one is prey
To darker thoughts which find a way
To strut unbidden on our stage
And force us to turn back the page.

I think of Friday; sad surprise
An unpredictable demise
Of a lady writer, colleague, friend
Who for many years would spend

Time with other literary folk
On varied writings – all bespoke!
We saw her last two weeks ago
She smiled goodnight; we could not know

This fleeting glance would be our last
Life's like that – people just drift past
Our minds cling onto them a while
Recalling them with saddened smile ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2014


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