There was that moment when

parentage grew wings;

when each gave their life
so urgently in exchange for
the others delight.

Then came storms and sorrow
for all the right reasons;

a child the only receipt that
they had paid for
their lives together;

like minded authors on
the road of their procession

on days they shared
the child of their creation;

brief moments clutched together
their pride worn like
the finest clothing among
like minded throngs;

watching them on
the field of play

through eyes of momentary renown …
the field they all had played on …

the field of youthful

glory.

It didn’t matter how they played …
all spaces counted when

seen between the lines of
who they were.

From pole to pole
they took their rightful place

in exchange for
the delusions they

passed on through
time and space.

Everything i’ve told you
could possibly be true

and i know you feel the same;

it’s not the knowing that
gives life its meaning.

It’s the life we could have lived
between the lines …

It’s the Life
we thought we didn’t have

that makes it all

worthwhile …

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