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Waiting...

...or moving on

Too much of life is wasted
waiting.

I cannot stay,

on a yea or nay,

and waste my life...

in waiting

I must wander

the tree-hidden trails,

taste unkennt berries

from the tangled briar,

stroke the witch's cat

and still not stop

from knocking on the door.

I must skitter

down stone-strewn sands,

taste mountain waters

from the river's mouth,

walk into the waves

and still not stop

from swimming out from shore

Too much of life is wanting,

waiting

I cannot stay

on a year or a day,

nor waste my life

in waiting.

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