Soft Spring Rain
I see the rain tap on the window lying in bed, the pain radiating from my hip to my knee--
The chickadees dip and fly- their nest under the metal lip of a vent in a our building
The cottonwood trees send messages covering the air in brown and gold They too are looking to recreate
As the pain eats into my head I lie there wishing I too could fly
on the sprin…
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