In between
dark and dawn
winter and spring
apathy and action
I pause
in the slim moment
before sunrise
and listen
to birdsong
and the wakening noise
of civilization
engines purring
on the highway to the north
water rushing
in the sewers
from early risers’ showers
Above my head
a bare tree
is budding--
in my heart
a tiny bud of hope
is forming
I breathe deep
and nurture it
with a few
wondering tears
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