(by Nicholas Gordon)
Sometimes some time must pass before the flesh
Can grow across the chasm of a wound.
The rift must be protected by a silence
That waits upon the healing touch of night.
You and I have traded so much pain
There came a time you closed paternal doors.
Your love could not so long sustain the power
To hold humiliation in your arms.
I know that I have disappointed you:
I could not be the child that you wanted.
But now I stand beside your ancient walls.
Come meet me once again outside the gate.
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