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Larry Kimmel - Collected Poems Online


 

 
   Past Midnight

   Past midnight, I turn off the lamp, 
   sit listening to the wind. On the ceiling, 
   Christmas tree lights make fern shadows 
   of spruce branches. Somewhere, 
   in the vastness of night, the young poet
   who will become my friend,
   the famous actress I will never meet.
                   ___________

Copyright © 2005 by Larry Kimmel