Haiku 4

Poem By R F David

Clear skies,
a whispered wind.
The storm is forming.

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Your eyes can sometimes still reveal
The child that's not quite gone.
Panic! I strain for one last glance;
I hadn't looked for far too long.

Hopeless Eulogy

Our thoughts do not recall a time
When angels walked this Earth
The life we have is the Heaven we get
And not planned before our birth