
As we count our losses,
we brace for shadows
and ripples lurking
in the darkness.
The comfort of an
undeterred desert moon
shines stillness.
It conjures hope
and the ebb and flow
of constancy living
on their own cycles.
It rises with flickers
of unfulfilled promises
and etched memories
of loved ones gone
but never far away.
Your poem is comforting. Some things do remain constant amid change and loss.
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Thank you, Tom.
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