yours husband. The clock
has not stopped since
you and I sat
under this patch of sky
I move around in
without
our quiet conversation.
Now and then your face hoots
through me as a train
waking up an empty station.
And though it does not stop
you are once again
in the picture--you are
the depot of the life I led
before this one.
And then
I return to my day.
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