.MTYyNA.MTQzMTY1

poem, with handwriting written across it

 Ms Man

N is like end

Nowhere beginning

To reach under the skin

A lacks completeness.

In all its beginnings

That surface the waves.

M lacks in partial

What it does to fullness;

A tree with deep roots

Has a hook on this bee.

S call the difference

It's equal

Beyond what the sameness

Would otherwise, be.

M isn't partial

In climbing

To spell all its rythming [sic]

For all man to see.

written across the poem: Hortense As the Wheel of the mind unclear so time Happiness is having unclear Hope you enjoy this thought it has given me much to reflect

Love  Roberts