I was waiting
by the back of the line
I did not know the song of life
Time was out in front
with a dance or two
Not waiting in the wings
not for me or you
A tide was moving
at its own speed
with a great year
always here and there
washing up on a familiar shore
where I sat
watching the bird
turn into a crow
so black outside
yet very enlightening
on the warm inside
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