acrophobia (on a painting by Pat Orban)

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Painting by Pat Orban

rain bites skin
chills bones
among warm speckled rays
thunder hems & haws    clears its throat of sky
lilac whiffs with languid wind    and that smell
when rain first tames the dust brings me
to who I am (in this cage of dying skin)
the old man rambled    can’t work in the lightening
I had to agree    it was a yellow afternoon
and there is no place better to stand
than where your feet meet the ground
I wouldn’t go up there either
not if I had a say
not now        probably never

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