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Monday, July 30, 2012

Weatherman's Advice


Opposites in my head-space:
hot and cold, high and low pressure
colliding at will, mercurial,
changing in a broken rhythm
impossible to count or predict
with the cutting wind of worry
the only constant.
So much to get right, wrong
that it is easier to take the
weatherman's advice and
seek shelter until further notice,
to withdraw, turn inward,
become the observer, spotter,
watcher rather than participant
as what swirls behind my eyes
seems an alien language
or stratospheric music
sung by spirits beyond
angel-demon dichotomy
for this bewildered audience
of one, seeking the cool, dry
air of calm and patience,
but knowing that the root
of temperate is shared
with temporary.

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