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Jasmine flowered through the night…

Even as daylight pressed at the gates,

jasmine buds opened their eyes to the dawn-moon.

Even as daylight pours through every crevice,

jasmine flowers stay awake,

hopeful of the first light of twilight-moon,

weak it may be, like first prayer, new faith.

Night falls… I switch off the lights, and pull down

the blinds – one by one.

I put the day away with its slow ripening

memories, scraps of wasted thoughts,

idle images of an indeterminate day.

A few more minutes and I’ll be done putting away

these odds and ends,

that might keep me awake for a bit,

then like youth, rationed, drop away.

Some night, I will pack up  – but that

will be easier. There’s not much I want to take –

Memories I want so much to spirit away

are fading with time and distance…

Perhaps in the end they will turn to a speck of dust that

will stowaway in my eyes and I will

up and away –

light like a feather, following his way.

…jasmine flowers will dry up and fall away

smelling like yesterday…

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