
Unbridled
We close doors against it. Wind. Barnstorming shadows
of unsteady oaks. It blows by north, right through us,
moans and utters, and sets bedsheets free into nature’s curl.
Three Line Thursday: fly free

Unbridled
We close doors against it. Wind. Barnstorming shadows
of unsteady oaks. It blows by north, right through us,
moans and utters, and sets bedsheets free into nature’s curl.
Three Line Thursday: fly free
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