And when the day ends
I let moments play out
Like fractured pieces of music
Heard from across a street
A wooden gate that can’t be opened
A dog, distressed
Leaping up,
Tongue hanging
A boy made a man
Aching with sadness
A friend
A doctor
A house
Whose gentle shade
Protects from conversation
Words jarring
A month to cross a road
A year to get home
A journey as tender as the sweet buds on the fruit tree
Who will, after time, release their fruit
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