Tuesday, July 13, 2021

Pressure Systems

Every day breaks
Eventually.
For now just sit
In the courtyard

Watching the night
Go by. Small rain,
A few flickers,
And some thunder,

No stars beneath
This cloud cover.
A set of chimes,
Crickets, crickets,

And that could be
The acrid tang
Of raw woodsmoke,
Ash in the air.

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