Dew and do

Every morning all things are new things
Under the sun
And all the knots
Have come undone

Every night all things are old things
Under the moon
And all the flags
Fall down too soon

But in the twilights and breaking of days
There are no steadfast rules
Shadows and tides rise and fall
While dukes and princes drool

Fortunes of sleep
Piled golden in our eyes
Dreamers and makers -Shaking hands
Their warm breath clouds in lies

In between
Where all things seem
And nothing comes to die

In between
The die is cast
Beneath the burning skies



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