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Richard Dinges, Jr.

Spring Thaw

Ice gone, water

grabs wind and waves

wild white fists

at sodden shore

covered in spume

and last fall’s dead

under a sky

emptied of gray,

into a blue

vacuum that promises

more than sun can

ever deliver

before winter wind

returns and holds

pond’s time in place

until warm wind

returns again.

Calm Night

Only when wind

ends will I breathe

freely again.  

In early spring

silence at night 

before insects

begin paltry

songs, I learn that

a beginning

is an end reached

too soon.  Breathless,

I face the dark

horizon, gasp 

a wish to fly

out on my own 

burst of mighty air.

Jim Zola 675DC4F9-2C15-4B6C-B6DA-57E28D416349.jpeg
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