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Sometimes
Time
Sometimes time seems
To roll on in
On us,
Sets up and stays
Awhile,
Opens up and
Makes us privy
To information,
Revelations
That make us seem
Older and wiser
Than our years
To those we
Bump
into,
Although these times
Only last seconds
Maybe minutes,
There are others
That reveal little
Or nothing
Yet hang around
Like a least favourite
Relative or acquaintance
Seemingly for hours,
Days on end,
Like the green stuff
On top of dead ponds.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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