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Driving Through Vermont at Dusk


In towns that could be anywhere
in America, you are exactly

yourself, joined to a flawed body,
sanded & smoothed, a shelf

without varnish. When the last light
shreds the sky, you'll lie awake

alone or with someone, below stars,
their indistinct edges. Believe in all of it,

that closer distance, & the wind
still as an understudy, ready to go on.


Jen Levitt

The Off-Season
Four Way Books


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