is it any wonder
i miss you
on nights like these
when the roses in the yard
look nothing like
they used to
when the apple tree bends
toward an ambivalent dusk
when even the rabbits
in the canyon
are running from something
is it any wonder
i miss you
on nights like these
when the eagles are
on the box
singing about
a peaceful, easy feeling
and i have no freaking idea
what they're
talking about
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