Willow
Wasteless thoughts echo the pondering willows
as they blow back, beckoning me to enter in.
Inside their soft arms, they surround
my sides with cool, crisp branches.
Why wallow wondering where the sky begins
when time runs dark before the sun shines?
A bell yells for me to return to diligence.
The clock rolls on, and I remain, out of time
August 15, 1998
Erie, PA
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