2 Horatio

James Brasfield
Out Here
Hour upon hour the stillness
of boulders on the beach
and the tall trees on the bank,
one a birch, its buds fattening . . .
now, suddenly, the wind-wavering
saplings, the waving branches
and leaves: such patience,
until the sound of it all—
an unmindful diligence
moves the second hand.
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