Strangest Measure

October 9, 2011
The strangest visitor of all
Walks in and leaves
Before you greet
Its face
Oh, you will never meet
But you can always tell it
s near
And whether it's been here
Or there
Beside the window
On the lawn
In the passing
Of each dawn
At the gate
In the street
And yet for it
We always wait
Its imprint
Like the feathered dew
Of the crashing of the shrew
And though you spend it
Without care
A minute here
An hour there
Add it up
Or count it down
Listen, too
These words of mine
For they're wrapped in it
It lives with you
And dies without

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