freeness

these leaves
that run
on my path
I have
an affection
in them
they are like
family
and I
watch them
with my
bright eyes
and they
tumble
like they are
not dead
at all
but have
found
some type
of freeness

 

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This entry was posted in 2017, garden, literature, poem, poems, poetry, writing and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to freeness

  1. Macxermillio says:

    That is how I decided to see my mom’s death

    Like

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