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Not so fast, kids.  Please.


Twice a year, maybe three, we go down to the trail
That leads to the sky and the sea.
They charge straight ahead, and they grow a bit further
Away from their childhood and me.

They forget that I'm there, as they should, as they will;
As they conquer each day's new frontiers. 
I capture their dash when they're lost in the moment
So I won't have to cover the tears...

That flow with the march of the years.
That flow with the march of the years.

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Reader Comments (1)

Awww... I like that :)
November 13, 2005 | Unregistered CommenterTheGirlWho

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