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In the quiet of the night, a projector's beam,
A canvas painted with memories, a life's supreme.
Ektachrome slides, a flickering show of time,
A journey through the years, a life sublime.

A child's laughter, pure and bright,
A mother's love, a guiding light.
Triumphs and joys, a colorful hue,
But beneath the surface, a darker view.

Defeats and sadness, a somber tone,
Tears that fall, a heart alone.
Loved ones lost, a poignant sight,
A bittersweet echo, fading light.

More people lost than gained, a lonely path,
A heart heavy with grief, a soul's aftermath.
Yet through the shadows, a glimmer of hope,
A resilience that endures, a spirit that soars.

In the quiet of the night, the projector's beam,
A life's reflection, a bittersweet dream.
Ektachrome slides, a testament to time,
A journey through the years, a life divine.
Reminiscing of the past, slides of the past, a history that unfolds.
John McCafferty Jun 2021
Soft light and fresh sense,
cooling air descends.
Lungs expand more gently at ease,
apprehension slides with death.
Breathe in to converse with greenery
as the day now dips and sets.
Though the clucks and clicks continue on,
colours no longer reflect to bounce
the burning image of a molten head.
Nevertheless we're not done yet,
tomorrow's bound to come along
with new problems until we're laid to rest.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)

— The End —