Seasons Pass
In a pot
Wilted flowers demand attention
Below is a pit
Holding the source of life
A score is told within the green
But here brawn dominates
Life had passage
Perhaps a new form will emerge
The old lady scratches her weathered face
Pondering her own life
As she spades vacant pots
Hoping for the same kindness in passing
—James W. Collins
2024 mar 21
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2023 nov 23
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2023 nov 20
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2023 nov 7
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2023 sep 20
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2023 aug 14
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