Wait for the wind
in an open space
look listen feel
spread your arms
splay your fingers
run run
catch it
and take off
over what you’ve
done or haven’t
over broken promises
and bracken fields where
you’ve been led awry
or lost your plot
and on passed the cusp
where baked ice and the
scab of sin
meet flowing promise
and the unpredictable
green
creep of confederate
jasmine
and here we can
gingerly touch down
debts ignored
dark arable soil to
plant our feet in
and virgin space to
scatter
memories and scars
here they won’t
know us yet
we can act on the new
earth
and sow fresh character
for our friends
the worms
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