of the second breeze

I saved the life
of an hour today

gave it a second chance
at meaning

to become something
than so much time

and in the minutes since
I’ve seen the sun
still rising
shadows on the green
and glistens
of dew on grass

I have heard the caroling
of magpies
the abrasions
of a cockatoo

a vibration of reflected life
is a wasp
yellow and black
turned into greyshade
through the window
onto my floor

fifteen minutes
are re-lived
by now

a quarter of the time
I saved

there is value
in reliving
I know because
I took the time
to ask the question
of the second breeze

© Frank Prem, 2017

April 2017 Poem #03: the way to creativity


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