Monday, August 29, 2016

i thought of how
a thought forms sometimes
slowly 
after rain
at the tip of a twig

lingering, filling, clear,
of itself, almost looking, out here,
here of a thought
expressing
some vague sadness
some natural
precipitating joy,
some self-contained 
depending
release,
rounding the woody end in anticipation,
singular orb of reflection
slowly repeating
fugue, wishing
teardrop.
 

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