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When I Quit

It was a quiet moment

at dusk

 

at the very beginning of fall

when I quit.

 

Just my son

who turns one tomorrow

 

in the stroller,

just my roller.

 

The houses

like tinker boxes       

 

lamp shades behind shades

in the night.

 

And I remember

when I learned

 

the power of the written word,

how it sliced

 

through the dark,

through my mind,

 

the shooting star

it left behind.






Posted 10/10/19
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