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Driving in the snow

I think of midwest nights,

midsummer, so hot the high-

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way still heaved its sighs

even though it was dark,

and how above the arc

of road the first constellations

goad out of the corn

hordes of moths. I'd park

just to watch those white

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wings in the strong light

of my car's beams adorn

the night, become stars.

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