Distribution

Minimal the norm

if this is the taken form.

Stays on its track,

never looking back.

Never looks around,

keeps its nose

hard to the ground.

Else it might view

how all is askew.

How many have more

and plenty’s the poor.

Why do things land

where they do?

Is it all planned?

Impromptu?

Seems unjust,

like we’re going to bust.

Need a better solution.

To conquer the lust

and rebuild the trust,

this will solve distribution.

Poem and photograph copyright by Mar Startari, 2019

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Dandelion

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Late Bloomer