“He Knows.”


Silken, static air


a conspiracy of clouds,


the Coriolis forces

them to

cry aloud,

“He knows!”,

before they separate.


From left to right,

the birds-on-wing

begin to murmur…

… “Everything is set aright!”…

“Too late, is not the cry!”,

the night responds…

… as shooting stars fly by,

with twinkling eyes


breathless Hermes,

speeds the message,

joyfully across the skies.




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