When I face what has left my life,
I bow.
I walk outside into the cold,
rain nesting in my hair.
All the houses near me
have their lights on.
Somewhere,
there is a deep listening.
I stand in the dark for a long time
under the walnut tree,
unable to tell anyone,
not even the night,
what I know.
I feel the darkness
rush towards me,
and I open my arms.
(Lynn Martin)
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