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Postscript and Last Rites


Calling to mind old loves and lovers

fighting time’s tide to grasp again

the moments lost to indecision;

imagining, imagining, imagining as before

And nothing more.


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If this is to be the final voice I hear

And these the only hands I feel

If yours the eyes I last look into

The lips I touch and extremely kiss 

These rites would carry me happy

through a universe of eternities.

 © Philip Knight 2018