The sash window is opened wide
Eyes and mind only half so
Pregnant peg-bag swings softly on the line
Lily of the valley in bloom
Warm air washes over me
Whispering
“Fly away with me”
Wanting to draw me away from who I have become
No ‘Dear John’ letter
Would ever be able
To stop the sun from rising
But the Moon, she wishes me to try
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