David Harris (18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)
In Quiet Moments
When memories invade your thoughts,
in the quiet moments,
with laughter, tears, fears and pain.
Of promises we made so long ago,
and that were never kept,
of friends we had, now gone,
and dreams that were now lost in time,
of the pedestals on which we sat,
like some uncrowned king,
in the kingdoms of our own blindness,
or of the strangers like passing shadows
that disappear into nights black gown.
We are but mortals, in search of immortality.
We know not what lies behind the last door,
only of our struggles, we relive repeatedly,
with hope that will give us comfort
in the abyss of sleep.
20 February 1991
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