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Dreams turn to falling rubble, I'm awake! Eyes wide, fight or flight? Frozen instead. Bright white flickers... FLASH! Relieved... a live show at last! Dawn glow follows and I remember your words. And how you have no new words... now. So I tap the glass, in memory of you.
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Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 6:04 PM UTC
Stormchaser
Dreams turn to falling rubble, I'm awake! Eyes wide, fight or flight? Frozen instead. Bright white flickers... FLASH! Relieved... a live show at last! Dawn glow follows and I remember your words. And how you have no new words... now. So I tap the glass, in memory of you.
In memory of my uncle, who was a poet and meteorological enthusiast, among many other things. He died of cancer, May 2020 during the first Covid lockdown. I was woken from a dream, by thunder, in the first storm after his death…and it was a spectacle. And all I could think about was how he would have loved it and I wondered what his opinion would be. I couldn't go back to sleep so I wrote this while waiting for morning. *He wrote his poetry on his phone sometimes and he would call it “tapping the glass”.
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Dec 23, 2024
Dec 23, 2024 at 6:04 PM UTC
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