creased into thirds, they enveloped fear
lakes lead to rivers through mountains, through hills,
skimming past my new town. too small, and too near.
I planted belief in the bright summer hours
they grew by the light of the late winter's moon:
empty water, flat, alone and empowered -
the silent stroke, the sunrise soon
straps on the car and a box in the seat
no passenger room: the lap belt is gone,
I'll miss you. no matter what lives I complete
I'll miss you. you'll always be dawn.
XXX--
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