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February 1984


gems in flight

sparkling in the sun

silvry in the air

arcing from the earth

only to return

to lay as jewels

on long and green

blades of grass

blowing in the wind

yards from where they were

when set to sudden flight

by a transient thing of rubber



Edwin Koopmans was driving us in his fathers van

to a bowling tournament in Oshawa when

we drove through a puddle on the 401.


Gems in Flight
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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Each New Day A Miracle
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