isn’t that what they say
sunlight so light
on a cobweb so webbed
and dressed in dew well dew
it is all diamond on the frond
of this morning’s morn
shorn of night high on
the sun’s streaming
like time upon a Ming vase
in this pause in time
like no other time
in time and yet it is
for it will pass alas
darkness always has its way
tomorrow is another day
isn’t that what they say
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