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Bruce Levine Aug 2019
For some
Any place they hang their hat is home
For some
It isn’t physical
It’s metaphysical

There’s an essence
Intangible, unimaginable
Indescribable, but real

For every cliché in column A
There’s a single word in column B
Home

Travel and transience
Can never subjugate
The pull
The allure
Of the quintessential

And as the song says
A house is not a home
And the greatest love of all
Will yearn in tandem
For the romance of home
Bruce Levine Aug 2019
The grass is tall
And blows in the wind
Making waves against the sky
As the air whistles through its leaves

Greens blend into shades of color
Marking the times of the day
Like a sundial
Dividing the hours

Dandelions sprouting
Their thistle flowers fragmenting
As the breeze transports their seeds
Over the grass

The day dawns
And dew waters the blades of grass
Transfusing it with new life
And new hope for another day

7/30/19

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https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07485W4Q1
Bruce Levine Aug 2019
A bunch of chocolate morsels
Just perfect for a Queen
Who craves a special holiday
And every day between

Written in celebration of National Chocolate Chip Cookie Day – August 4, 2019

8/4/19

www.brucelevine.com
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07485W4Q1
Bruce Levine Aug 2019
Past the keyhole
The portal to the unknown
Flowers bloom and signify
Lessons learned

Yet future unplanned
Remains unspoken
Time alone withstands the test
Of reality

Foraging through the inexplicable
Toward a new reality
Without a helping hand to guide
Its destiny

Questions remain
As sociology and psychology
Scramble through empty strata
Of perplexity

Fighting new platitudes
Unknown explanations
Diversity notwithstanding
No clarity

Lost communication
Through evolution
Of a backlit screen
Revealing nothing

7/15/19

www.brucelevine.com
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07485W4Q1
Bruce Levine Aug 2019
A starfish crawls across the wreck of a ship
The hull opened like a tuna fish can
Plastic bottles filled with water
Awaken the hereafter

7/30/19

www.brucelevine.com
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07485W4Q1
Bruce Levine Jul 2019
Summer heat
Lassitude permeating every pore
Wasted days
Too hot to even think
And moving takes more energy
Then it produces
With after-effects of permanence
In a single place
Unable to raise one’s body
Beyond a reclining chair
Heat rising
Steaming up from the pavement
In unending streams of perspiration
The only respite is recumbent
Drifting into a semi-comatose mixture
Of suffering and gloom
As days become nights
With no relief
But
Around May
To begin
Praying for a blizzard

7/31/19

www.brucelevine.com
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07485W4Q1
Bruce Levine Jul 2019
Syrup drips over the tower of pancakes
The last vestiges of Log Cabin
Empties the bottle
Morning begins with a plethora of carbs
A joyous start to the new day

7/30/19
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