in the half-light

in the dark,

did freedom speak

of glistening peaks?

the chanted whispers,

the autumn’s fissures

threaten summer’s fixtures.

held warmth fading,

mind drift forgetting

of people passing.

“..what’s your name..”

the grandmother listens,

“..friend, nan..”, heart softens.

“..they’re there..”

lost in fairlight,

ever been half-light.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

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