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Half Open Petals

My words were taken by the wind

Masquerading as an orator

Sojourning with crisp autumn leaves

Following foolishly behind

I ran frantically behind

Shouting at the imposter


I grazed my knee

Behind the sycamore tree

The wind has gone

But I know it will be round again

And I shall be waiting

Behind the sycamore tree

I’ll hitch a ride

Find the place

Where foolish leaves become wise

Take back what belongs to me

I’ll speak the words

When I am good and ready

When I’ve looked left and right

And the danger has passed

It may be a rainy day