Weeds
The weeds grow between the stones
Staking claim to their part of the court
The mountain air
Chills my skin
One day so like the day before
Each day begins
A mountain to climb
The day ends
Progress is hard to see
Just like the weeds
I pull them
Tomorrow they are there
To be pulled again
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annellannell 
Lovely poem, Annell … I was just thinking about you this morning!!!
Thank you Helen, and I think of you often…. I’ve been very busy lately…. and sick the last couple of days, but much better today. Annell Livingston HC 74 Box 21860 El Prado, NM 87529
annell@taosnet.com http://www.annelllivingston.com http://www.somethingsithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com https://annellannell.wordpress.com
And, even so, we are journeying endlessly forward!
A weed is anything where you don’t want it to be… So much weeding to do…I think the thistles are winning…
You are right, If only we could embrace them all as beautiful! Annell Livingston HC 74 Box 21860 El Prado, NM 87529
annell@taosnet.com http://www.annelllivingston.com http://www.somethingsithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com https://annellannell.wordpress.com
I so know the feeling. Each day so full, so busy, and little progress to be tracked. Sigh. Must just keep on keeping on:)