SUNDAY MORNING 10:10     I make my way to the balcony, one eye shun,     The other shut, squints to find solace and Sun.     Cautiously I move reaching out, grabbing only mere air,     I need not fear in my search for the Son.     I wish to remove a chill within, to warm the soul I lease.     Clumsy now I stumble down to find a seat, my chair,     One I can claim for the now be outdoors --breathe fresh air.     I sit not in thought, but listen at this moment so rare     One that wraps around me, where any noise is bare.     It is so quiet now; I feel the sunlight as it strains through the trees     My mind attempts to focus this singular moment of healing rays.      I realize too, it has limits in my time all of the days.     What is next, 11:11?                   This I doubt. During this recovery I am to lift no more than ten pounds.     So, I thought to remove the unbearable weight on my shoulders.        Patriotic Hydrangea?     
 
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