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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2204405
by Annie
Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2204405
Not sure. Just took the words from the prompt and did the unexpected with them.

Like the outfields of my youth,
we existed.
Placeholders for the possible.

Then you left me in the dust
beneath a bridge of impossible sound.
In a country of impossible night.

Only rings of dew and sweat
marked the road we took to get there.
And the dawning was late.

At first, I couldn't lift myself out.
But my flagging limbs fought on
and I began to grow old


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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2204405