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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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