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In The Moonlight
In the moonlight
you saw how she
would look down
the corridor of years
waking in the middle
of the night calling
your name because
you had left the bed
to go for a pee or a
glass of milk to drink.
The moonlight would
not be the same moonlight
then and probably you
thought you wouldn’t be
there anyway someone
else would occupy the bed
where you ought to have
lain and made love and
hugged close and kissed.
Some things never happen.
Sometimes they’re almost
There within reach but missed.
poem
by
Terry Collett
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