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Ways To Go
by
michelle miller

 
Dearest, this late September night
the moon dangled above
the nimble black tree line
like an orange slice,
fresh cut and offered.I reached
or my phone wishing you,
and everyone could see. At last,
the whole dark landscape making sense,
From exit to exit, the world was simply
what it had always been:
a tabletop, between man and fruit;
a sweetness made more sweet
by reach and impossible distance.

--Submitted by mrae2333 on 2011-08-07.
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