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Ode to Phyllis
My date moved on the dance floor
as if her life depended on it.
I tried to look cool
as I kept up with her.
At some point, I felt a stare
from the lady
sitting by herself.
The discotheque lights
did not reveal
the complete details
of her face
but somehow
I knew something
struck between us.
She is my wife
and the mother
of my children.
poem
by
Buxton Shippy
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