On days that move
A wind cannot
Come plain
Moaning hours
Get fixed
Resentfully
Most days
Like this
Tree wickedly
A wind
Steels the whirrr
Of a hummingbird
Which works
So hard
To make it home
Dependant, fixed
On rooted things
Slipping
In its stream
A sea of flowers spray
To drown
At once
A wind
Come plain
Tom McGlynn
copyright 2014
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