On the way home I had to pull over twice
I parked in a complex of apartments
and walked to the side of the road
I stood there, stared
stirred by the pull of the moon
Before then I sat in a thought
nothing is set in stone
the stones are only stationery
temporary love notes and lists
shifting and repositioning
at the whim of celestial bodies
the third rock is a gracious hostess
we are guests
The moon told me this
And I have to admit
I am still at my second stop
Waiting for the moon
to steer me home
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