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Love Story
by Mary Eliza Crane

In the other love story...
we kept our boots on.

He held my hand
as we stumbled forward
barefoot in the dark
up the hill and
tumbled down
into the weeds
with fading stars.
Early light coyote song
with a view above the town,
as I lie there in shock
he said goodbye.

Afternoon on river rock
water rushing past
I cursed and cried.

Back in the spring
the only thing I wanted
was the birds.

We met on Saturdays
beneath a cedar tree
hidden in a thicket
on a rise at the
juncture of the path.
Life was hard for both of us
we didn't always talk
early mornings
naked on a blanket
in the dirt
he smelled my hair.
The frosty air was cold.

We thought perhaps
we'd be together
when we're old.

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