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In less than an hour it will be 1997.

In this short time do you remember?

Do you shrug off the past to make way for the future

or do you hold on to the dying year

seeing every minute disappear before your eyes?

On this, the last day we have been covered by snow

and frozen by the cold as the old God Cronus turns

his hour glass over for another year.

He carries a scythe in his other hand and has a laugh

that turns us to dust.

We stand tall and are proud to welcome the new year.

I remember my other years falling by the wayside one by one.

I know it’s wrong to wish away the days

for if we do we won’t have any left until…?

new yearold yearnew beginningsold memorieshappy days1996 poem

◄ slowly

A Memory of Schooldays Cargoes ►


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