8/27/2009

Glancing Back

I've asked him
to love me.
Like a wagging dog
who howls into emptiness,
then bites the hand
that will not stroke it.
I can't understand why
you push me aside.

I'm in a place
where the manicured lawn
turns into wildness,
a dark path into woods.
You have turned in the doorway
of the house as if catching
an animal in a ray of moonlight
then quickly go inside.

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