Not a tree

I love a tree that is not a tree
with a love that is a love
and apologize to her for
swinging from her branches and
monopolizing her shade

I built a racetrack around my heart to
watch the blurry world fly by
I have lost track of
the number of times I
need to race around

I ask that question and I forget
I already asked it many times before
we argue so much over
my forgetfulness that I
don’t know if it’s ever been answered

I go to the store and I
visit with friends and I
go back home again
after an hour or two of TV
(and a good night’s sleep)
comes the time to start over

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