Wordplay poem by David Michael Jackson

Wordplay you say
was it play then
was it the trees then
the trees and the wind
and the child playing among the roots in the
dirt
in the dirt
in the,
no,
in the wind.
Do all the yesterdays go back as far as all the tomorrows
go
forward
forward
forever
and backward
backward
backward
or does it all go both ways
like crazy mad
like the wind metaphor rattling the branches of the tree
metaphor
until the arthritis
stops my hands
from typing on this keyboard
and it all
stops one day
and ends up in that picture
where George lassos the moon

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