Waves
What does time expect of us today,
this gifted stretch,
of extended minutes,
safely tucked into the faces of the clock,
after fire, mud,
and in the wee hours
the tv mouthed off that we
were on tsunami warning?
And the mud would run rampant again
through our sun kissed city,
like a big bad wolf?
Bucket lists come in clear,
riding the fleeting waves of thought like Hawaiian surfers,
and then the tsunami is cancelled,
and we fold back into time's flowering finish line.
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