Mindless Thought
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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Soothing my soul, willow trees in memory
flow and sway in rhythms of my youth.
Ever green, fresh, tactile to feelings I
can always touch with my mind.
Solitarily imagining whatever I want,
placing it on edges of desert plains,
letting it dry out, refreshing tears
falling within.
Finding always, crystals shining with
the tenacity of migrant breath on arid
days of mindless thought.
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