Christine
By Kevin Nicholas Roberts (1969-2008)
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No longer light, but not yet dark,
We stand here in some space between
And listen to a meadow lark;
Last year she sang so sweet and keen
For us, Christine.
Here amid the fading flowers,
We think of things that shall not be.
Christine, can you recall the hours
When I was you and you were me
Beside the sea?
Above our heads, the soul of day
Moves softly through the a…
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