Of Two Minds
Feb 2019
My mind has a mind of its own
that weeps when pink azalea blossoms
wilt, and weeps again when newly
buds unfold. It laughs when first
a narrow shoot of sidewalk green
lifts its curious head in April to meet
my gaze like a baby offers
her first toothless smile.
The wind also holds two minds,
like the ocean, mentor to our dry and
somber lives. Like the sea
I change my wrinkled clothes,
like the wind my mind blows
hot and cold. Come love me,
it cries, then leave me alone.
2010 - 2019
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