poetry by j matthew waters

the grand illusion

I reach to touch a leaf
just as it separates from the tree
our association drifting apart
before it even begins

what seems like millions
upon millions accumulating
is nothing but a conceptual pile
looking to be jumped upon

the eventual scattering
and complete disappearance
is nothing but a grand illusion
graciously repeating

june two thousand twenty
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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