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Promise

The night is clear
The crickets sing
  The moon hangs high and still;
The twenty-ninth
Of August comes
  And memories from it spill.

A couple spoke
The wedding vow,
  Upon a stage were cast;
Though it seems
As yesterday,
  So many years have passed.

I’ve never met
A promise made
  That time did not undo;
A summer’s night
Within the still, 
  Remains the promise true.
Published inPoetry

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