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Be Here Now

I went outside to sit in the warmth,
To drink in the heavy heat pouring down.
I took books with me, half a dozen, truly,
And I turned them over, page after page.

The clouds moved in, scattering moments of cold,
As those warm rays are held back, I wonder
If I should go inside, but instead I wait
For the shade to pass into light again, that distant fire felt.

A chapter of fiction, a few poems about
Being somewhere else, and I just want to be here
On this deck, feeling burned by the sun and
Uncomfortable by the things that tread overhead.

My dog scuttles up beside me, I called him
From playing in the garden. I'm going to plant
Some seeds today. The wind picks up and he leans
Into my legs, a force of warmth and smiles.

"Have you read the one about writing yet?"
His eyes ask me and I shake my head, almost
Done with the poetry about being somewhere,
I watch the birds drink from the broken sprinkler below.

I don't think the sun is coming back. But he leans
A little harder, making it easier to stay and listen
To the lessons in the growing things,
In the changing sky.

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