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The end of May

I can see the moon

outside this office window –

it’s not even 4 o’clock

but it’s big in the sky

half-waxed or waned

chasing the sun’s narrow

slide across the

wintering horizon.

There are so many of us.

I want to go home,

hold my children

make love to my wife

walk the tops of the Tararuas –

through yesterday’s snow –

see if it kills me.

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