A Windy Digression

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The Wind

The wind blows me nowhere, everywhere I never thought I’d be.

My night rises, Maxfield Parrish blue, the wind a silver scythe across the browns.

I stagger like a melancholy god through the fields, letting the stars guide my thoughts, the wind my fate.

My hat lost long ago, my jacket snapping back like a chain, my footsteps alone and restless between the rows.

Nowhere to go but my night, rising.

The wind blows me nowhere, Maxfield Parrish Blue.

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