Day succeeds day, and that's okay
but I wish I could slow
most of these days down.
I'm enjoying too fast,
and then they are gone.
At they end of one, yes,
I look forth to the next,
but -
- it's gone
like that. These days, they are
ours, but how much do we
get to hold each one? By flying sun,
skyful of whirling stars? I don't
want to stop time, just
make mine large
before it is done.
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