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the light

the light moves on the hemlock branches
slowly in time
and constantly as the branches are moved
by the air that surrounds us
and our planet

the light moves in me
as I watch it along the bark’s thick skin

all of you who have connected to me

whether you are here or not here
possibly here
or impossibly here

Earl, Bertha, Georgia, Mac,
Elinor, Sue, Ann, Steve

you move in me
like the sun slowly moving each day
disappearing and returning

and the wind
fluttering everything around me

from Steve — poems from a friend — Bill Eberle

Thomaston Maine     February 26

© 2019, Bill Eberle