Mutter their mantra,
Anticipate June,
Hover in hollows
Amid the dark Cottonwood,
Awaiting the Lady Banks
And her blooms.
But spring has come early.
The blossoms awaken,
Rise before dawn,
And stop for the Sun.
They take his rose fingers,
And clasp to their bosoms
Debutant hopes
To blossom as one.
But now the golden chariot must
Rise for appointments
And be on his way.
Drawn to his duties,
He loosens the reins,
And hurries the day
With his carrying on.
While from somewhere unseen,
A stir! A yawn!
A transcendent "ommmm,"
Sings on
In a stingless drone.
-jenn long
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