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Hurley Mountain Road Midnight
       by Carole Bugge 
       A low lying mist clings to the cornfields
       as we whiz by
       on rubber wheels
                     in our metal cocoon
                            slicing through night air thick with cascading cicadas
       A full moon yellow as corn grazes the tips of the stalks
       casting its golden glow upon sleeping farm fields
       I carry my memories through this journey
       Wrapped around strands of my DNA
       Tightly encoded – singular, personal, yet not
           -      a cup of coffee
           -      a bridge of flowers
           -      a mountain meadow in riotous bloom
           -      a final kiss
           -      promises made and forgotten
The moon glowers
       revealing the landscape as in a dream
              hazy, half hidden
Is this night really magical
or is it a trick of our neurons
to search for wonder
       Beauty in the brain of the beholder
       a first kiss – when was it?
I long to jettison my memories
heavy with the weight of old regrets
but already I am making new ones
my stubborn brain recording this moment
as if it meant something
urging me into a future of hope and promise
even as I long to seize this moment and hold it to me forever,
       to stop the forward rush of time
              the inevitable descent into entropy and decay
The future is shrouded in fog
But my task is to live, if not happily ever after
       then with acceptance in the unknowing
              perhaps there are kisses and cornfields flooded in moonlight
                     yet to come


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