Within The Tempest Sleeping
May 4, 2024
BY Bo Bryan
There is an Ocean
of Air,
One of Water,
Another of Time.
Storms arrive.
The Four Winds howl
Breaking Waves
In their multitudes mount.
Storms, in Time,
blow out.
The various Oceans
Sleep like children,
Gradually to wake,
Swirling wild again,
Soon to weary,
To sleep some more,
The howling Wind,
Forgot.
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