the winds are sweeping through
to give flight
to the loosening of things fixed
before they are driven into the ground
where someday we may
wade our fingers through the dirt
to reclaim the bones
of what was, once
such tender porous flesh
right now
these changes are ripe and present
as they have been before
and will be
as they will always seem to grow
so hard and chill and
unknown to us
we mourn as we feel
the warmth of life
leave each change
once so present in our minds
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