2.

Unhurried afternoons

When squirrels play in flowerbeds

Winter has left us

And spring is a fleeting movement

Unhurried summers

Broken trees after an untimely storm

And the wet leaves of dawn

When earth performs as a matter of duty

Wasted dreams of man

If only the senses could escape

Into the stench of wet earth

Into the arch of unknown trees

Unhurried dusk

If only the eyes once shut

Never opened.