I’ve always

Admired my thumb.

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There isn’t anything

Not going on ever not,

In ‘Time’. But,

There are thoughts

Creating times.

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When blue skies disappear into

Gardens, teeny-tiny

Grass daffodils smile out!

Not as many, we’ve had a cliff

Slump of blind earth burying.

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Sometimes, my soul aches,

To be, again, a grass daffodil.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 20/08