monday crashing down

up early
whispering prayers
to the swirl
of gray
ill prepared
for motion
in a state of
frozen wonder
drowning in
sand at the wrong
end of the hourglass
as it tumbles
silently in
her cool disdain

all while tiny
buzzing gnats circle
hoping to
draw bright blood
inflicting
incidental pains
to justify
their existence
to satiate the
emptiness within

the planes hover
in five days
i will fly as well
the village icarus
with burnt fingers
from melted wax
covered in
discarded feathers
seeking to soar
over appalachian sights
to sit beside
the ocean and
whisper prayers
to the undulating waves

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