my sign
is the stillness before the storm
when the wind slows
pregnant with rain
and every shadow holds lightning
at my passing
stone erodes into sand
flames whip into frenzy
oceans are carried away
leaving wafts
of atmospheric wit.
the mind is my domain
not the body.
my disguise
is Jack’s pail
and Jill’s hearth
fixed
tumbling
too quick to be caught
or held
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