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I stand with one eye
looking in front of me,
taking in the next hour,
what needs to be done
on this side of the highway.

The other eye sees past
the divide, up the hill
to my daughter in her world
with other children, teachers,
and trees with broad branches
that protect them. One day
they will come down the hill.

Oh, why can’t time stand still?
In a tunnel, underneath the highway,
I tried yesterday to make it so!
With no one around I waited,
wishing the world to hold forever
a moment, a breath, this place.

But the cars above roared past.
I walked up the tunnel stairs
to the other side of the divide,
closer to the hill where in hours
I too would hurry home and see
my daughter before fierce wind
would bring in the night quickly
for us to rest and wait,
for it all to happen again.

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