Sunday, December 22

Cages




Memory can be sweet
but hope is a cage
no less than fear.
Perhaps when I am old I will learn
to accept each moment for itself:
to experience, then relax
placid as a pool
neither expect another drop
nor fear the drying sun & wind—
but simply Be, content as Now
and then contain by innocent reflection
the sky & trees beyond.




December 2019

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