It returns, and over years you learn
to live as light as leaves. You turn
and twist your stem, you brittle, fall
and float. The grinding pain will stall
your lists in any case. Itís stern
and slow, this lesson. Months adjourn,
so live in days. Agendas burn,
so trust the haze. Accept it all.
your strength, your dancing power to earn
your striding futures Ė first, unlearn
your plans and drift. Youíre natureís thrall;
your sole survival truth, to sprawl
like wax. Remember that, and learn
Thanks to NaPoWriMo.net for the prompt to write about something that returns.
See the new NaPoWriMo poems as they pop up, complete with pics of the handwritten drafts, and suggest titles for them, via whatever social media you call home:
All my poems on this site are now #FreeForPoets to play with, to write hybrid forms such as glosas, coupling poems, golden shovels, acrostics, centos, and erasures. Full permissions here: #FreeForPoets.