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The Sage



I dreamed again of the sage.
He had left the city forever, he said.
He was done with the desert, too.
He lived now in a little condo in a small town,
with cable internet and a pool.
He thought this would be enough.
Once a week he went out for Thai food.
He was telling me about a great new show on Netflix
when I woke up.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.