In the expanses of time
From a day of pure blue dreamy skies
To gray chill September rain
A world is in some ways still the same —
Bruised, cracked, unaware
Of the feeling before that tightness
Constricting in the throat, stomach, heart
At the thought of burning and falling
But then followed by a reassurance
A hope, because we are still on our feet
Moving like wolves at dusk
A herd of elephants, a murder of crows,
Vigilant and worn and WISE.
13 Minutes
Published
bohemian.on.rye 