RAINE REFLECTIONS


Crossings



Colours brighten
In the eyes of the dying
The distances narrow,
The rivers are drying
A bridge crosses still
From the place where it drew
The love and the hate,
The old places we knew
Old anger so distant
You forgot what it means
The torrents of passion
Are no more than streams
There are no crossings needed
After the waters have passed
As the distance between us
In days long since past


© Christopher Raine

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