Sun fractures days
into peeks and troughs
of past-times.

People lock themselves
in cages made of droplets
and eat themselves
into inefficiency.

Yet there is joy in the downpour
as well as in the blaze,
if you listen for the impact
of water upon dead leaves.

So garments will be soiled in
profoundly juvenile sounds,
like laughter,
it's no price price to pay
for living.

Go! grasp the garden
with both hands
and paint the walls
of your house with earth.

Written May 2013.


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