Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Index

I'm surviving--still breathing
Out here I'm passing seasons
And I'm waiting--alarmed, though--
     for one or more good reasons.
Excuses
     Come easy
To me
     When the sun gets in my eyes,
And nerves start to shake
Make a getaway...

And just right on time
Back out and seeking space
          we're penalized.
Fall asleep
Punishment
     gets meted out
You'll close the book on Springtime.
The Autumn's set to publish.

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