A silly
thing
A window is
all
And solitude
Drifts
Out across
the branches
Of the
springtime trees
Putting on
their chlorophyll robes
Ready to
receive
Every toxic
exhale
My waste
their treat
And visa-versa
And all the
world was a cube
But the glass
opening
Shows circles
that spin
In cycles of
give and take
Breath into
air
Thoughts allowed
to wander
And that bad
mood
That was
boxed in
Can be cast
off
Given to the
trees
Caught by
the wind
Dispersed in
sunlight
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