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It was a day like many others
Grey and misty on the coast
I looked and saw them all
In procession
Fleeting as ghosts
In corridors of time
Entering briefly into the rooms
Of our lives
Then flitting out again
Leaving less than a footprint
I wish I knew their secrets
The things they tell each other
Whisper on the wind
Murmur to the waves
I could have stayed all day
In that happy state
Of warm relaxation
Perhaps I stayed many days already
The moment is timeless
All Writings and Images Copyright © Peter Crowson Updated October 2021