• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 09
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The Answer

A dry land seeking liberty
to wet itself wonders
about the quiet after this storm.

The roads are familiar to it.
The smell of the air isn't.

The trees no longer liaise.
Their commitments are done.

Does the new rephrasing require us?

An empty bowl falls on the floor—

The sound seems familiar.
It was there in the quiet
before the storm.

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