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Poetry

Victoria Day

  1. My mind was clear as I think back to a still morn in May.
  2. A darkened morn it was to me, to others, a hol’day.
  3. The day was new and touched by dew. Not a sound upon the ear.
  4. A mother’s voice, a trembling hand awoke me to my fears;
  5. Fears I had the day before, and e’en throughout the week,
  6. And now they woke me from my sleep and wouldn’t let me speak.
  7. Just thrice the bell had struck that morn, my worstest fears come true.
  8. The love of two fin’lly made three, but now the three was two.

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By Kim Siever

Kim Siever is an independent journalist based in Lethbridge, Alberta. He writes daily news stories, focusing on politics and labour.

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