Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Under the Banyan Tree

The wind kicks up 
As it surely will
The fog will part
It’s been so still,
The chickens scratch to pass the day
And likely grain will come their way,
I sit and ponder each of these
And wonder at the steel gray seas
That rises from near your distance shore,
We wait to breathe and grow
Once more,
For time will come and dance with me
Sitting under the Banyan Tree.
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