Patterns

On a midsummer night, when the moon is asleep
You may see for a moment, as though far away
A face from a time that was just yesterday
And the sound of your voice sounds far off and deep
Was it so long ago, it all seemed too soon
You remember that day, beyond the dark trees
The wind that would blow from the hill in the breeze
And a soft shadow cast by a wandering moon
You tried what you could, you did what you must
Though nothing has happened, how everything’s changed
For thoughts never spoken, in words unarranged
Are patterns you traced long ago in the dust

    But now it is late, and the breeze blown away
    You are left with the thought of a midsummer day

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