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Waiting for the Dead


Is it the eternity

gone not gone

where seconds become days

and days become years and

years

become lives

in the passing? Is it

the anticipation

where rooms come wide

on their arrival? Where doorways

never close? And windows

open to some

greener field?

.
(
words: Lys Anzia, New Mexico; picture: Diana Wynne, California)


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