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Standing at the far edges of disaster
Understanding comes faster;
Waves and wind roll in, taking us
Under their wing, soft as
Gossamer, silent as whispers.
Only the dead hummingbird
Crushed inexplicably against
The window glass attests
To any darker currents. Yet
Out there, far to the East
The frightful, moaning, shriek
Shakes households, leaves
Its traces and tracks in the freakish
Slamming seas.
