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for every time
forgotten you
the road between
and counted for my worries
every mile
for cares
I thought it mattered
now it seems I’ve lost my way
returning your
as a smile

a verse or two
maybe three or four
as meter met
with rhyme
stories we were telling
on the way
sits the same
an unlined page
fevered fight with time
how few the poet knows
have less to say

places still
my soul recalls
the miracle of pen
as hush before a poem
we appear
crowded vowels rewritten
backward to my hands
words are given voice
tho none can hear

. . .