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Uncontrived Day

07 Jan
'twas the day
of a steaming cup of
Earl grey tea ... sipping

Saw a misty ice cloud
rise & loom frozen
Warmed me into it
Like a dwarfing ocean

'twas a comforting day, though 
pain sat on another brow -

Thought about how to get
pieces of eight from it
not green-backed blindness
but to be with, and become sight
in this day of all now

'twas the day turning off
the leaky spigot of networked sameness
so to consider the puzzle of a friendless
winter tree, much more valuable than a 
contrived collection
of pixels

in cold December mud
... must disconnect, to reconnect
to what is, and was being
this day.


 
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Posted by on January 7, 2022 in Poetry

 

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