Discovering the weeping deciduous expressing itself
with full tendrils, billowing
White linens alive on a laundry line
Hurry! It’s going to rain!
Nimble fingers and interwoven wicker
Chilled droplets send their smiles
Waking the skin
A reviving air by any sense
But what was sleeping?
Though we play a small part
in this great chain of entropy
We are here now
without true size, without true age
Outside of here, where there is magnitude
There is time
Image credit: Weeping willow and swan (2009), Philip Halling.
Primitive Joe 
