one day when i have a child
i will tell them to remember,
that one man's trash
is an artist's treasure.
wind chimes bringin me songs of wild fall.
to you, to me, and to all
who can begin to dance
in delicate vibrance.
the simplest of sounds,
allow me to twirl around.
the elder sunflowers sit back in september somber.
everything is ending & beginning like i remember.
each atom in my body is spinning with the earth,
our colorful top of wonder.
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