For Pat ( looping with worry on death)
In expecting we inspire
A buzz in the mind--
Words like bees who care
To fly from the hive--
In hope is my spark --
Lightning harnessed by many --
Golden, bright, and warm --
A comfort to turn deadly.
In truth it is your way.
I chip, I coax, I try.
The story may not be a lie
And in your mind you will die.
But in the meantime, breathe.
----
Just Sitting
Creation pushes a whisper
Across my tired brow
Colors the empty paper
Molests my current low
A time a time a time
When clocks meant much more
assaults my settled mind.
Pass by, harmless storms.
Mindful and blessedly stable,
I gaze to the backyard
From the breakfast table.
Creation can’t move this blowhard.
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