A Taste Of Going
S Sandra Fowler
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The glamor of the sun on old tin roofs.
I wonder why the moment seems so lost?
Long shadows follow summer into time.
The taste of going is the taste of wine.
How intricate to trace rhythmical moves
Into the deepening dusk of old.lost loves.
West has become the circle of our suns.
Friend, light itself will see the patterns home.
Previously published, Skylark, Purdue University Calumet
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