There was meaning in her silence.

A force in that smile.

I was at the launch of damaged past.

And she heaped me on that pile.

There’s a time for cool reflection.

Contemplation to be clear.

And there’s a time for quick escape.

And acknowledgment of fear.

I left her in the meadows.

I was shaking at the shore.

The tears are from the laughter.

And her silence has a roar.

Dennis Mantin

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