sometimes I would sit
out in the field
in early autumn
and for a long while
not do anything
except imagine her walking
towards me
tall and sure and gentle
my eye’s closed
I’d see her at the field’s edge
drawing near, intent
crossing the tall grass without a sound
approaching
standing over me
her presence
just two, three feet away
her shadow on my cheek
her eyes on my eyelids
she’s found me
she’s brought nothing but herself
and we are silent together
really here
until even opening my eyes
would not send her away
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