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Shadows

Mist beyond the window

screened shadows yet to come

and I heard soft breathing

of one love

Air so cool

so wet

all very like touch

of death

A distant raven

cried against the coming night

and hushed the crickets chatter

The wind was gone

rain pooled in small

but never bottom puddles

The candle long since snuffed

seemed to question,

"Will Heaven be this still?"

A thought whispered through my mind

If only the world could keep this peace

May 27, 1968

Dedicated to Mick Scarpelli aka Mick Scott (Herbert Francis Scarpelli)
                       8/19/1945 - 2/13/2017



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