Incidence

There are always goodbyes in good things
Parting the meridians of fine and fair
A fond farewell.
There are the closing chapters of life
That solemnize those parts
Of inward being to reflect upon.
It comes silently intruding in my dreams
Where the place and time remembered
Is relieved again
And incidence takes hold
Of memories in her compelling arms.
She cannot break her ties
Or lose her hold
Of our encounters in this world.
But steals on tip toes unawares
To cause the tears of laughter or regret.

by Yvonne Sparkes

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