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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Time in Six Minutes

Six minutes falls from my heart
like a broken bird.
Cloud of poetry,
unable to fly.
Wings still folded.
A time in which destiny is wrapped,
unopened,
waiting,
unable to be born.

Six minutes to breathe a lifetime.
To see the beginning and end.
To see eons in a tree,
the reaches of space,
the rainbow’s ribbon,
time stretched like a road.
To beg the question,
how long is a life
given six of them?

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