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The Reentry

The quiet of the morning
The trauma in the mind
The storm without warning
I search but do not find

The grass has gotten greener
Life has complicated
The world has gotten meaner
As I anticipated

I run for the cover
Of a piece of wilderness
My refuge to recover
From the things I sorely miss

I emerge from that cocoon
With new resolve and shtick
I howl up at the Moon
And pull off an ugly tick

-Kevin J Curtis
 20220513
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