Seizure
A Poem, Four Stanzas
Yesterday the wind blew
in off the sand and seas, so
crisp — easy to breathe.
It kicked the dew up through
the sky, up above the
mountain— so high.
It stopped and knocked on
heaven’s gate, but it was late —
the sun had bid goodbye.
I'll stay… I'll wait. The static’s
returned to fill my mind —
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