London Poem: Day 91

16 November

What gives, will get in the end.
I’m not certain, but I’ve
Heard these words before.
Let us be the land,
With all of the inevitable
Twists and turns,
But glowing in the great
Lush beginnings.
We will sweep across sight lines
As the horizon gives up;
We tumble along,
Until we run out,
Only then will we turn
And begin again.
But, there are too many steps
To retrace,
So we’ll find new ones;
Giving and getting new
Experiences, in lock step;
Still going.

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In flux

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