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,

with nobody to talk to

i talk to myself or rather i

write to myself

and talk to the dog

today i told a dog how lucky we were

i told him to look out the window at the sea

as we drove along the coast

over loud music i exclaimed

how grateful i was

only half hoping he would agree.

the water was quiet

with fog

silky and at rest

the road open.

there are people to talk to

if i am lonely

but not all my words

are for all ears

the more intimate

wait quietly

on paper

for me

to read to

someone

who

isn’t

hear

yet.

i’ve been in cars

on empty highways

with those i wished

could see what i saw

out the window

but they talked on

not interested in a

lone oak

or lavender hue

upon a mountain.

i wasted my words

only if spoken

but otherwise

saved forever

in my mouth.

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