Serenity

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So you keep running
and never stop…

…to look around
at the whirlwind
that has swept you off your feet,
and tossed you around
like a piece of driftwood
turbulent and spinning in
perpetual motion


leading nowhere.


So you keep running,
maybe slow down…

to look around
and smell the cinnamon winter air
bittersweet and somber
underneath grey skies
and crunchy leaves
scattered on empty yards
with swings in motion:
smooth and predictable.


So you walk over to the oak tree
and grab on to

serenity.





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