Poet's Corner

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some thought it sad
her swiftly failing memory
from this side of dreams
it looked dreary and dark
like rain on a cold November night
caught between the grim and the futile

she was a frail woman
lingering on the edge of golden gates
window-shopping before making a final purchase
living in the space between breaths
against the odds, as if efforts to contradict were futile
inexplicable, strength simmering in an old soul

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