Wednesday, January 10, 2024

Poetry poses problems without answering
Overtly states things that I'd rather not know
Enters into my daydreams and nightmares
Tickles my funny bone with the light feather of wit
Reverses my opinions, or at least jumbles them into a tangle
Yet I keep reading . . .


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time enough

restless edgy achy from the wait  time to unfurl sprout feel the sun shine

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