The last silver streamer alights,
confetti and ticker tape abandon flight,
balloons fall from celebration
failing to be held aloft.

Remember when we were? Each awakening brought
a new day with new sun in which we bathed defiant,
we dared it to blind us, we countered with our own
heat, radiance, impulse to grow, and then to burn away.

Soft brooms whisk the memory; the clink of glasses raised
to toast is still there, not quite yet imperceptible.

© Chagall 2017

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