Nearer
with our history in sight
your absence clear bright
floating above Otay Mountain
in dusk's muffled lament.
Tonight before dark
on my walk to the park
the air soft, mysterious and sweet
like a fountain soon vanishing.
On the way home
with our history in sight
your absence clear bright
nearer than this risen white moon
floating above Otay Mountain
in dusk's muffled lament.
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