Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Alpha Through Lima

A leaf pauses, held aloft,
Breeze rider, ancient, veined, ovate.
Caught, hovering above real life. I expect
dreams end like this and
even captured hearts only  
fuel our xenolithic tendencies, resting on the
ground, on leafy floors.
Hope often-times emulates leaves.
I never doubted I’d accept.
Joining us, like Ieaves, embedded to the end.
Keeping it like our
Love; innocent, mindless, absolute.



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