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The Moon Behind A Cloud

A knock on my door
in the middle of the night.
Who is it?

A window opens
in a room that was locked.
Anyone there?

The phone rings.
I hesitate.
Hello?

My dog barks
as if there’s a stranger in the room
but she’s looking at me.

I see myself in the mirror,
half-there, half-not.

Not fading, just not ready
to step into the light.

Too scared to shine,
too stubborn to be put out,
too restless to stay stuck.

I just hide.
Like the moon behind a thick cloud.

One thoughtful email a week. A rare gem about the strange business of being human. The kind that makes you think,
“So, it’s not just me.” You can leave any time. No hard feelings.

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