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       Four Days On

A catalog of rooms
out each window
the scene is different,
and between the summer
leaf curtain thick
a morning light is seen.
Some homes have changed,
additions, vinyl siding,
driveways grassed over,
cars pass unrecognized.

The sun behind a cloud
suddenly everything's changed,
and what was between
comes into focus momentarily,
crows break down the grass,
shadows more green than black
an atmosphere monochromatic
yearning for warmer weather,
a flash of attention
moving strangely inward.

As a lightbulb burns brightest
the moments before its blown,
so the edges of a slice of time
removed and sewn together
flash for an instant and converge.
And we're destined to be strangers,
some roads are best passed by
foliage and wonders undiscovered
and nullified, tired of revealing
against a language of nondisclosure.

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