Pitter patter rain
and a little tai chi
in an unfinished building.
my sister and I
transitioning smoothly.
the wood feels raw
with saw dust and sand
an exhale release
and a wave of my hand.
spring mist in the air;
a sweet pitcher of life.
I hold my cup
and fill it with love.
oh these times.
they are silly.
too much pain.
too much misery.
Part the horses mane
Bend over the knee
Close your eyes
Feel the chi.
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