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Be Missing History

Be missing history.
You’re gonna die.
Don’t wish for mystery.
Settle with a sigh.

Think of ever after.
No more masters of the I.
The past years out to pasture.
The pastor’s a silent guy.

The ruler’s no stooly.
He’s honored among thieves.
Sin’s gentle tomfoolery.
Nothing glorious achieves.

A child outside the window
cries newer than the new.
You were once a widow.
Now grow with me anew.

In stream and over valley.
On top of mountains at will.
With everything behind me
how could anything be still.

Published in Poetry