The Gingko’s Tale

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Leaves like little fans
Or green butterflies settling on stems
As sunlight on bright wings
Yesterdays that flutter past
My window.

Startled Heraclitus in streams of change
Sees Parmenides grasp a stolen current
Where languishing wings can’t decay green summer
Held fast in the eddy of my gaze
Caught in rivulets of pain
Till You, my Lord, come again.

4 thoughts on “The Gingko’s Tale

    1. Anytime at all. I can relate to poetry being hit or miss. Some days the words pour out of me and others I feel like I’m forcing it. But there is always time to revise later on. As long as you’re writing, that’s the most important thing! 😀

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    2. An excellent strategy! Write expecting to do several – make that countless – drafts and you won’t feel the irrational pressure to get it right the first time. It’s not a matter of low expectations but rather battling the self-defeatingly high expectation of perfectionism. The bete noir of amateurs like myself.

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