Wednesday, April 26, 2017

What can I say?

Is this a poem?
the wind
trembles
through new leaves.
It is cold
and I am
tired.

(Tax cuts
for plutocrats)

Can one
(me)
pull words
from the thinnest
air? What can I
say to
disperse this 
cold spring?
What do I say?
Can this day
sing?

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