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Starting Over


A bleak morning.

Ground fog, again.

It never used to rain so much.

And then,


the mist bows to a casual cumulous,

and evening cadences fall from a cloud-mouth of stars.

The future catches in my throat,

musky and delicious.

Its name is Start Over and

it sits between us

like the last piece of candy in the box.



Toni 1/15/13


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