Orain
Last night it rained
A wind shook the feathery waves
Dreaming trees ran like telegraph lines
Alongside indigo jets or perhaps windowless trains
Paper moon cutouts against construction crane backgrounds
Exposed like sunlight shuttered in words no one understood
What was engrained
Last night it rained .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2017-06-29 at 00:40
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