This vision (94.4%)

a reprise of the percentages:  I contend that, like Irving Layton 95% of my poems are crap, and only 5% worth reading. This poem is on the line.

 

Lighted windows in the dark Glimpses of life
Where cries and whispers Embark

A cool wind ruffles leaves now brown
As the world waits
For life to begin

Cold still but a scent Of new growth
Has risen
Sending wisdom new and ancient

Bring dreams to life In this vision

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