Apparition

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It slipped in around
3 AM. Under a waxing crescent
moon, a
shadow.

Her toes curled. Heavy
air had her snuggling in
deeper. Liquid
eyes peered.

Long ago, she had closed the
door on his Old No. 7 cadence,
lead legs, absent
mornings, silent
nights. 

So she
slept.

~Pamela Rossow