Wednesday morning gray

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It’s patience made tangible,
hope and satisfaction a taste
on the tongue of dirt and stone,
forgiveness growing as green
as moss thick on the bark…

It’s a question with unexpected
clarity of resolution shining
diamond-clear in a mirror’s face,
doubt plucked stem and root
from its greedy earth abode…

It’s a staircase missing steps,
footholds in stone worn smooth
as any carver’s masterpiece,
or a walkway with melted edges
indistinguishable from the wild…

It’s today, tomorrow, here and now,
all wrestling for your attention
but boasting no worth or vigor,
words as deep as a passing breeze
and just as easily lost and forgotten…

…when your eyes open and smile
as I lock the door and walk away.

(dtn)

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