Paths stretch out into the darkening
horizon as the sun continues
her chained journey around the world.
My feet grasp hard the dusty
rut in which they walk,
compelled by future gratification.
But the horizon grows darker
and I walk faster; coerced
by gravity, my wings are bound.
The night arrives in a sudden
concussion of racing air
and displaced sound.
I close my eyes to see
her standing against the tree,
her skin echoing the snow.
G. C. Jeffers 
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