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Bipolar

Bipolar
A yellowish day frolics with life, pleasantries errants the air, smiles growing everywhere as man and beast are one with the leash, complacency occupies both time and space, the tenants, of calmness and serenity moves in. That as being first analyzed as a minor depression is formulating and will soon be realized. In the distance, a tad just beyond far, a patch of sky blues, as neath it an action is afoot, sufficient for all eyes to unfavor. Murmuring are furthering while prudence gives way to swiftness of a widening of darkening as a hue from black delegates its face. Opened window's yields to shutters as doors closed behind them, a church bell then rings in the swing of things, be all the fun sinks to glum. Frail breeze to windy, a street empties just like a playground, air a bit chilly, while lovers tryst is bittersweet. A full storm now cruising, with punishing bruising, all victims for its choosing, going out diffusing, its right to being abusing, being chaotic and confusing, with all the blowing and the throwing, pelting rains pummeling, winds swirling and twirling all going hither, then a calming brooding cessations abound, resulting, temporary distracting, until it wither, then all events that were, returns with great failure, as everything goes thither, in this questionable type of weather, that creeps about seething then erupting one way suddenly break, then abruptly explodes the other way, as if, on human terms, bipolar.
2020 February 28

Copyright © William Kekaula

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