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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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