Seed

Inside the seed of this second
is the tree of the entire day.

It begins to grow
when you open your eyes.

It bends as you do,
breaks if you do.

As you fall asleep
it is cut down and made into

furniture in the house
you go to in dreams. 

It holds the dream clothes,
the dream pages of diaries,

dream plans upon dream plans scribbled 
on dream paper.

Tomorrow, you’ll awake
and all this forest will be lost

but inside the seed of that second
waits the tree of a new day.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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