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Bart Edelman 15 My Song I intend to reach home The day after tomorrow; It’s been a long spell. My work now complete, I can finally think Of loving you again. You find it curious, Perhaps, even alarming; This compartmental process By which I live. You say it’s something I choose, But the nature of the job— The sheer grind and toil . . . Well, we’ve gone over this Too often to believe We might reconsider our positions. And each time I leave I know there’s the chance You won’t decide to stay. I’ll return to an empty house And recall the small things Reminding me of you, As I bump tediously Across this unforgiving road. Somewhere in September’s night I hear the sound of crickets And imagine the lamentation They must feel to carry on With all that constant clicking And chirping to keep them company. Would you love me any more If that were my song? ...

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