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Spring

 You notice as Spring becomes that something rises thru the stalks of trees. The rising coincides with events of other plants, other life forms, other places of approach. You may even ask yourself or whatever listens if you are a tree, or a branch of today. All instants are just instances and the sky chooses blue. Rascals of movement may invade or other songs, or grey stands for black can't help. No lesson needs learning, just the words or leaving. The memorable seed contracts as basis then numerals start to play. You have propinquity to elaboration and its music for the time it takes to think so. Baseless flying subverts the mood then numbers start to exist. Nothing seems to matter then seeming to matter seems to matter. But that means nothing to flights of legal franchise. Jump again.


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