Friday, October 5, 2012

The Day After Number 18

The day after the typhoon passed
To the southeast, in a rush of gray
Wet bluster, is a crisp-clear breath
Of autumn blue sky, a precious day
Where we would sense the death
Of a too-hot summer -- but locked
In air-conditioned offices, too few
Even notice the quiet miracle caused
By the cyclone's passing through...

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