This

This is what wasn’t.
What never was.
It guards and it wards
Effects of the cause

Flying against
The headwinds of time.
Resolute spirits
Dance to ragtime.

To feel it this much
And with such a rush
In quiet spaces.
Not the noise, but the hush.

Again, and again
Till the harsh edges soften
To feel it. And feel it.
And feel it this often.

No moment without,
With unbridled song
To savor. To know it.
What could be for this long.

© Brandewulf 2018

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