Missing in Atlanta

Missing in Atlanta
(A Sonnette)

These Georgia pines obscure the waning moon,
Reminding me how far away from you
I am.  I wonder how I’ll make it through
The next ten days before the end of June.

I curl up on the edge of this king bed,
A pillow crackles underneath my head.
I clutch another, wish for you instead.

— Stace Johnson, 2006

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