Your visit passed so quickly, I think,
Driving past fog-strewn Christmas lights
With your glass doll swaying, almost pink,
Under the mirror that points back to you.
To ease the pain I clutch a drink,
Imagine you sharing one beside me.
Amber lamps hang like fireflies
Over the Mississippi, which
Appear, through my tear-soaked eyes,
To be estranged souls holding
Beacons that guide the shifting skies,
Calling their loved ones to come home.
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