Many things dreamed dreaming into being
Still, the mundane and irksome
Bits getting about in uneven spring
Though clouds of redbud everywhere
Uneven, when I cross old floorboards
They've deflected for so long
The old square nailheads pop through
The pine, and I don't stumble
But almost. I don't know but I
Am unsteady, the trick being to
Say why. I am sorting through the
Possibilities.
Last night after some surprises,
A deep wound began to bleed
Among the healed places, so I slept
And there, far, far away, your gentle
Soothing hands upon me
Take time to understand,
You said. And so I did.
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