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EARLY OCTOBER

11 October, 2012

Yet dark

   the morning air cradles the ocean in its hands

   and tosses bits of it like wilting rose petals into the sluggish breeze

      itself barely awake

I hear the hissing of showers

   and the thumping car doors of hard chargers

      eager and fearful

Power pole insulators fuss and sizzle

   electrocuting the incautious dew

      even as I fuss and struggle to burn away the dew of sleep

        reluctantly foregoing its mercy

There are no stars

   no birds yet sing

I wander onto the highway

   and drone up the sodden coast

      wondering how the summer fell so suddenly ill

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From → Stories & Poetry

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