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My mind is twiggy,
A poorly pruned bush
Whose berries are tiny,
Whose old branches

Outweigh the new.
Energy flows into
Too many canes,
Resources thin at each end.

Before equinox,
When coldness still outweighs warmth,
I pull in,
Embrace dormant days.

I observe my new buds and old stems,
And new stems I don’t want to encourage,
Then remove some parts unproductive.

I want to enter spring’s tide
Aflush with new energy,
Focussed on less
To give more.