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Keela Wale
Poems
Oct 2012
We don't have a basement
Once again, the winds change.
It's raining on the sunny parts of town-- Oh Holy Hell.
The birds flutter by in the cross winds,
gracefully out of control--
The dogs cry and gather themselves
into my embrace.
We both recognize the passing glance of danger,
and the subtle way life reminds us of our
perpetual state of insecurity.
Matt is in the basement, building a desk.
Written by
Keela Wale
California
(California)
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