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Sense of Proportion By Ellaraine Lockie A late walk alone to let night fall on my losses Compress the ground that covers too many graves To let light from the fall moon mute a buried brother brain dead mother a love that died in fetal form I feel the serenity of nature's slumber November stripped of nervous energy The chilled night numbness silent as it supplants pain with apathy But the deadened senses shatter at the crush of dry leaves At footsteps falling from behind more brisk than mine At my heartbeat pulsing fear that I won't find a woman walking her dog Instead a stocking covered face above the moonlit glint of a blade And the cut steel sparkle of constellation stars connects nerve-ending knowledge of the enormity left to lose |
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Document last modified on: 12/09/2006