its just
        a kind
                of wishful thinking
        as the bough quivers
                leaves sinking
                        a gentle wilt
                                gives me time to watch
                        a setting hour
                while life rots
                        still
                                i
                        wait
                                till
                                        another
                                                spring
                                           begins
                                                time moves
                                                in seconds of sand
                                        i chase behind
                                on minute hand
                        forever getting further away
                till time cathes up again
        one day