Dissolving poems swirl in eddies
near the edge of dreaming.
Pluvial drumming at dawn
plays cryptic cadence on windows.
Words tumble out,
pour forth from the heavens.
A squall of poetry
runs in rivulets outside,
where
a skeleton of a leaf
clings to the oak branch
for one last dance.
Wake up.
Tilt your head open.
Drink it all in.
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