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How should we measure a year?
By months, hours or memories held dear.
By what could have been and what became
Or maybe that shouldn’t be the aim.
A year is, a year was
With all its beauty and its flaws
Ours, your and mine
So, lets not categorize it, nor define.
3 comments:
In memory yet green, in joy still felt,
The scenes of life rise sharply into view.
We triumph; Life's disasters are undealt,
And while all else is old, the world is new.
Isaac Asimov
"a year is, a year was..."
I like that line.
and with all its failings, that year won't come back. :-)
also loved the line that trees are the most transcendent of all. so true. :-)
Thanks. Yes, time never comes back but time and a great imagination can make anything seem wonderful :)
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