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Aug 2017
RUNNING NAKED ALONG THE CLIFFS OF MOHER IN A THUNDERSTORM

She ran on
into the storm

the last shreds of her
designer clothes

shrieking out to sea
terrifying the gulls

'I'm free...I'm free! '
she screamed nakedly.

The divorce papers(that
had finally come through)
tore themselves apart &

flew...flew...to the four

winds unfurling her fury
(laced with lightnings)

she conducted the storm
in a fine frenzy.

Nature's orchestra
drawing her to this

crescendo of self.

'****** tourists! '
bellowed the blustering

one man & his dog.
Donall Dempsey
Written by
Donall Dempsey  Guildford
(Guildford)   
350
   Keith Wilson
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