June Bloom
For June Bloom is a time of Fruition
and when the distance draws back and reflects
it happens upon something like dense flecks
the leaves in position of remonstrance
alive were the moments of life’s questions
they neither were answered nor forsaken
but cling as as certain as always throng
they gather they cluster they diminish
before there were preceded with finish
their inertia so innocent they blend
the wild poppies with their faces flushed
there is no where there as where as when
but beginnings are mysterious ends
without equivocation precedent
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