Sunday, November 20, 2011


Photograph by
Tiny leaves come tumbling down the street
as if to warn me with high, sweeky voices
"The wind is coming! The wind is coming!"
And around the corner, the wall of you hits me
as if to threaten of things to come
and your potential for destruction
and like that you are gone
only to rumble throughout the trees
filling the air with the sound of your fury
and your possibility. 

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