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  • Tender Blossom

    Posted on March 9th, 2012 Michele Sun No comments

    I waited at the edge of the stream, 
    where the only sound was eternity, 
    faintly whispering 
    to the dark underside of things. 

    Revealing that tomorrow 
    is as certain as yesterday, 
    a notion 
    seconded by the breeze, 
    as if alert to my heart’s denials. 

    But when you arrived, the breeze settled 
    and clouds stopped moving, with stillness 
    pervasive and fragrant, and when you smiled 
    whatever I believed slipped quietly away. 

    Melting again, precarious and 
    vulnerable as the tender blossom of March…



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