When, at the end of a complicated season

of argument and negotiation

I check, and find that the moon is dark.

And will soon be new,

I consider the things undone

That will not now be done

And the things unexplained

Which will leave large pools of dissatisfaction

And I breathe out, out, emptying the air

From my lungs, and the worries

From my head; letting it a...

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