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Floracopia

For Sian

... So while I was not watching

Time, its winding fingers,
Wrapped around her slender frame
And she, weighed down by
Years she would not live,

Became the memory of Spring
And the shadow of future branches
Reaching to a sky
She could not see

And the Universe closed itself about her
As if she had never been

A bud upon a tree
In darkness

Flowering
Still.

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