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He Watched For Her  
by Chris Ingham


He watched for her; the night hoary silver.
The trees stood vaguely indistinct, distant
Against the skyline of the stubbled field,
Held luminously by the rising moon.
He waited for her, as he fumbled for words.
She came, but she stood back away from him
Until he only saw her a dark pillar
Of shadow refracted by the moon's glow.
He saw the moonlight flash upon her face.
He could not read the language of her look.
He saw that there was a space between them
That he could not breach, so he turned away
Impotent. Humbled by his fear of life.



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