I see one thing and write the next
there is a hurry buzzing and a breath
takes me to quiet
along with a long look at the apple tree
hanging over me;

Who made the call to Ambition
and global universal Perfection;
semicolons stop all the questions
that do not demand a solution
while the personal may not be 
transcendence, a tiny bird is
intrigued by raspberry bushes
and so am I;

Slowly, on a fencepost, the impulse to 
boast wanes from inside a comparatively
former relative of who I think I was,
where the eye of a hawk sees
a meal, I am in love with
the bunny outside;

Wherewithal be lost in the
sun's day,
whose bounty I kneel to share
on no account, for this conversation
does not go ninety million miles back.

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