Illusions

by Jane

A crystal bowl relecting light and shade,

a moment shared, a fear allayed,

but when the night comes

and the light has gone,

the illusion is shattered

time has moved on.

Something once grasped but not quite held,

emotions unmasked, feeling un-gelled,

gestures not quite understood,

a touch, a word, perceived as good -

shifting silently, endlessly

on the face of our time.

The illusion passes.


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