tail chasing
fleeting urgency of this poem
the making of the time
it takes to sit with this poem
and be in this poem
if only for a moment
or two
before day sweeper
swirls up the dust
cloud torrent

with dust comes
pollen, spring
becoming bloom
just beyond these walls

and in the moment of this poem
i am the pleasure, the
awkward excited gasp
and eye tearing of
a pre-sneeze

a sensation worth
all efforts to stifle
the sneeze so as to
or draw out a moment
which will only be
a moment and then
and gone

every day
spent searching
for a tiny place
to curl up inside
very, very briefly
and do nothing
only long enough
to know that the dust
will settle
and patterns
will emerge
and all this
ungraceful tail
chasing will
make a beautiful

Reach out and touch someone....

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