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By John I. Blair

Behind the heavy Lucite walls
Across the ice she skims,
One skated swan among the flock.

How easy to forget her youth,
Her innocence, how light
She felt within my arms
So few years ago. And yet
I know her youth will pass,
Too soon, too soon for me,
Not soon enough for her.

That is the way of life for us:
Avid at the start to live it out,
Sad at last to end.

2016 John I. Blair

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