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Bruce Levine Aug 2018
The crooked tree stands alone
Reaching for the sun
Half remembered, half forgotten
Lonely in its isolation
With
Limbs extending in a-symmetry
Branches growing
Where no branches should grow
Twisted upward toward the light
Yet
Darkness shrouding the branches within
Struggling for a place
No one knowing, no one caring
The crooked tree remains
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
Do you know what
I like about
Being old?
Senior Discounts!
I love to walk
Into the grocery store
On Wednesdays
And say:
YEA! – Old People’s Day!
And get
5% senior discounts.
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
Late last night
As I was walking my dog
We saw three deer
Munching away

We stopped to watch
And they watched us
And must have decided
That we’re okay

I will admit
I’m still not used
To deer so near
Who have no fear
And make it clear
They’re going to stay

Who munch and watch
People go by
And wait for
Another day
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
Waiting is the hardest game in the world.
How does one pass the time?
How does one even know what they’re waiting for?

There are so many things to wait for;
Even for that e-mail that says
Yes to some unasked question.

Waiting for answers.
Waiting for responses.
Waiting, simply waiting.

Too many things.
Too many options.
Too many choices.

Issues that pile up.
Factors set in motion
Out of one’s control.

Hope that lingers
Just on the precipice.
Out there beyond,
But beyond what?

And still one waits.
And the waiting gets harder.
The answers that never come.
The sublimation of the tangible
To the reality of the inevitable.

Who knows?
Who cares?
Only the waiting matters.
Taking on a reality of its own.

Setting its own terms
Without regard.
Without feelings.
Without conscience.
Without knowing
That there’s another side.
Without knowing,
Or caring,
That anyone is waiting.

Only the waiting.
And the waiting gets harder.
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
The end
Is the beginning
The next piece
The next moment
The next chapter

The end
Is movement
Moving forward
Moving backward
Moving wherever

The end
Is transitory
Tracing progress
Tracing moments
Tracing journeys

The end
Is a signal
Guiding airplanes
Guiding steamships
Guiding lifelines

The end
Is the ending
Holding loved ones
Holding mem’ries
Holding forever

(This was released on Leaves of Ink today)
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
I was recently asked
If grasshoppers
Blow their nose
In winter
I immediately answered
No
They have to hold it
‘Til next summer
But in winter
Millipedes ski
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
I looked in my closet
And discovered
That I went back to
Who I am

I tried being what I
Thought I should be
Wanted to be
I changed my wardrobe
I changed my hair
I thought I looked
The part
But playing a part
Doesn’t mean it’s real
Reality
True to oneself

Oxford shirts and jeans
And haircuts may not
Make the man
But they go a long way
Toward going back to
Who I am
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