“LIKE LIGHTNING” 6 Oct 96

Green fields near the sea
and rows of small houses.
This is where I have come to die.
A beach of pebbles,
wind, waves, you and me.
October breeze and the threat of rain
peace

from sixteen, to sixty five,
buckling under the pressure of man
just to stay alive,
a slave released from chains
released to graze, to die,
surfacing from the storm
into the calm hands of love

stretch out, fly
like lightning
I will shine sometime.

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