When

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When the hills
Are washed to sea
The clouds fell down
To wet the earth the sun
Is tumbled from the sky
I will awake
To walk with moonlight
Free
Myself to be
Unclothed from shame
Arranged in ways
That will not hold
The misery of seeing
In reflections glassy streams
The dreams and phantoms
That we weave around before
We breathe our last in gasping
Hopes of true election
Of the best in us is realised
None too late

© K J barr

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