Thursday, February 4, 2016

my blue bucket of gold

my blue buckets of gold
too full to get water
anywhere it needs it,

taking more than it gives,
but more than it realizes

living its entire life,
quivering at the feeling

that there is a barn out back
cold and uninviting, 
occupied by us
waiting,
for the sun to come out
bathing,
the world in its light
changing.

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