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Click hereWe seldom forget
the irridescent red
of sun-rich days.
We seldom reflect
on the smiles of shade...
the cooling warmth,
sultry lassitude,
the unhidden eyes
lightly dancing
no longer hiding,
the unintentional quiet
and the peace,
the enduring softness,
the missing of presence
and the missing
when its not,
the timelessness
- of each instance
- of thought, dreams, wishes
- of reliving the rememberings.
We seldom suffer
from shadeburn
mainly
from just its lack.
Chris Twyford
Ancient117331
5/17/2004
We too often look on the bright side.
This poet takes the shady side.
The one where shadows have legs.
I wonder how he likes his eggs?
Not hard boiled nor deviled,
this poem is gently shirred.