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Commute

Above black-whispered hills the moon, a pale
Huge pearl behind a cirrus veil,
Recedes, a phantom almost gone
And opposite sun-reddened dawn.

Above lake's silver shimmer: rosy cirrus, crow
And gull, horizon's citrus glow.
Heart sighs; pulse shrugs but knows routine
Earns wage, keeps weekend gardens green.

Horizon, like most life: a screen.
Posted 08/19/13
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