They Were Not My Everything
J
James McLain
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To see the moon for what you are.
The grass is green and blue the sky.
Is dark when you are thick,
the leaves the tree, I left alone.
My Everything your little fingers
pull and pushed away.
When the bottom is daylight.
Rain comes again without within.
There light did form and more.
I came to think you are.
And the truth the answer often is.
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