Aground

Unique and common, in between
night's sighs, dawn's longings, scarce serene;
we float here, there, through dreams' insight.
whose strings dissolve with waking light.
Chance intertwines our lives, sets scene
unwound round Time's wheel infinite.
First smile thus [b]rings bells brave and bright
but seeds regrets so often seen
as promise turns to 'might have been'
when secret longings fall from flight.

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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