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1.22.21

salt air blowing ~ ~ ~ in:

sea-grass smell     pervading sense

of rain     under moon-slice     rain

under empty skies


the coldness sinking in


narrow escape, the worst parts of us

follow     into each night

a people, hollow // a people, hateful


hopeful in     spite


every bad omen


even the gulls can’t predict:


storm’s descent

abatement

hushing of winds


what breaks first     in

this beautiful world     what shocks


by not breaking


and the sweetness of surviving it


Posted 01/22/21
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