Overhead: the soaring sounds, Calling.
Down here: The edgy electricity Jostles limbs, Loosening blackened blooms And thickened tassels Of tiny pears to the back porch Wind chime chatter.
Damn these winds! To stir stale oceans, Stomping seasons, And lifting life anew In their leaving.
Sam A. Flanagan
This article appears in Kinetic Rides Again.