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Saturday, 8 June 2019

Cass

It is the singing of the monks
Which reminds me today of your gracious space
For I am hundreds of miles away
On the journey to the horse racing at Goodwood

Meanwhile my partner swims in a lake
In the Carcassonne region of France
Also others, who I might wish to think about
Well they are more distant
Yes, in so many ways they are far more distant

So it is to your place which I return
To stand again in the breath of your silence
To engage, or to let go
During my morning meditation

As I ponder on visiting the sculpture gardens
Remembering that time, back in time
When the gates were locked, when all we could do
Was to imagine what might lay within
To contemplate on what might stand beyond

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