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Habits
A seed carried by the wind,
its fluffy ends like
a ball of fuzz,
lands on the deck.
It tilts to one side and the other
with each little puff of wind,
as if trying to plant itself,
not noticing the lack of fertile soil
on this hard wood deck.
Out of compassion, I picked it up
and blew it off the deck into the wind
towards the garden,
then watched as it floated away, and landed again,
on another part of the deck.
Habits are hard to break.
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