Apr. 2nd, 2010

aliaspseudonym: (Default)
And here is a tumbleweed
caught up against a fence.

Rootless, dried up, wandering
No longer.  Fixed in place.

On a whim, I grasp it by the stem,
Fling it haphazardly over, into the wind.

Once you have left you cannot
Put down new roots, live again.

Still, be free.
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