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Feb 2020
There is a stirring
      when one sees with clarity
            what lies ahead --

Edges sharpen, and
      the air pressure drops.
            Trees rustle where
                   there is no breeze;

A wind chime tinkles
      in a desolate place
            and it feels like
                  the end of time--
Written by
Sona Lachina  F/Cleveland
(F/Cleveland)   
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