Seventy-four days – Time to write a poem.

This is another found poem of sorts. Please see the attributions.

 

How important is it?

If I had a song,

My very own song,

An earth song,

 

I would be dancing on my own,

without a care in the world.

 

Are you listening?

The magical tune of the river tells us

It is hopeful in a time of confusion.

 

But wait I still hear some craziness.

I still feel like I am in the dark.

 

Wait a minute.

or is it an hour, a year or just seventy-four days?

I too am beginning

to see the light.

 

Photograph by Melba Christie

 

Attributions:

Man of many thoughts,  keithgarrettpoetry

johncoyote

Pat Cagan

Sketchuniverse

 

 

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