THE LAST LINE Spring again, the air is warm Thoughts are hazy, lazy day A line slips out and disappears Dandelion fluff, It blows away. I search my mind, it won’t return Decide I will remain at home And ponder why the poet tries And thinks that he can write a poem. A wisp returns, that line I lost The blowing wind a seed did find A brand new home, a place to grow In the fertile fields of my mind.
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