The good-looking one, the one in need, the one that almost was
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Each night since the moon passed full
she has awakened just before dawn
from a dream which she ponders then forgets
in the stillness when even the insects sleep.
The dream gone she feels the trees
close around the house and hears
the breath of her husband.
She is comforted to be embodied again
lying naked on clean sheets.
Suddenly she is praying.
She remembers what she wants
her life now half gone and so little done
but she prays only “please help me”
over and over as all around her trees
sway in the long voice of wind.
The moon is dark orange when her prayer finishes
like an offering or something fallen from the sky.
She is standing in the empty road facing east
her urgency fading in the light.