In Which I Am No Langston Hughes

“Behold,
I make all things new,”
says the spring.
“I warm the air,
I flower the trees,
I end your schooling.
I bring you back to old friends,
but only for a little while.”
And the still
small
quiet
and sad
voice inside me says, “Hey wait a second,
could you hold off
on making all things new?
Could you let me remain with my friends
could you let me be comfortable?
Why can’t some things stay the same?”

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