Tuesday, August 9, 2011

open wide the window

morning from night is an eye's close away,
like a step across a pond,
like a stone straight into lake superior.
in August the trees make no noise

but the gentle noise of here and there
that comes with being a tree.
all of the cars on the street are parked.
all the grass is at your attention.

and you have nothing to fear now
no one is counting down the days
and if you should find someone who is
know that they only care too much.

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