A poem for a poem
You make me write a song, a poem of you.
You tap me on the shoulder and say-
Get out of your drowning dark belly!
Look around!
There is work to do!
Your work is to look at the green before it fades.
Eat it and be full.
Your work is to sketch down the wind, the cloud.
Touch what is forever changing, which is everything.
Your work is to make your …
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