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Poetry Magnum Opus

In Childhoods Past


Terry A

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Terry A

Under the spruce trees playing
soft moss and feathery branches waving
surrounded by the trees
we children alive we were
and sounded in the forests’ cheer
Though dark things lurked
they were for other days
         
 the golden childrens laughter
kept them all away.

There were no omens
behind those dark moving branches
The sun was gentle then
and softened every blow
It was as though
the moments had no breaking tides
And never any reason 
                   to cry or die or lie.

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