on this last day
of creeping sleep
covered in the petals
of wind-strewn roses
when the case numbers
dissolve into happy tears
when the corralled avenues
are again open
to the thoughts of spring of love
to the possibilities of cluttered tables
where plans begin
for travels elsewhere
when catch-ups are met with surprise
for the weariness
now etched on beloved faces
- Patrick Singing Sky
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