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Urge
sometimes we wish the freedom of sunset's pink clouds
that cross the sky in ribbons
sometimes one urge piles on top of another,
the gathering bounty of spring
like
an urge to run through April rain, overcoming arthritic pain,
an idle wanderer within
an urge to shake off the Blues like Jello loosened from its mold
an urge to spring clean clutter, messy like seaweed draped
over a walrus
an urge to stifle stress that sizzles like bacon frying,
displacing contentment
an urge to flush a slush pile of "to do's" that gag sleep
an urge to watch birds at the feeder, tutored travelers
chattily sharing stories
an urge to inhale the solemnity of church to void
the wounds
of striving
no longer subdued by the clean clasps of cold,
nature nudges newness into empty spaces
for winter leaving lifts the script of cold unforgiving,
like a child reciting rhymes
Poem composed April 17, 2023
Copyright ©
Brian Sambourne
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