Poetry

Dancing in Toledo

A freak wind formed, from papers, leaves,
The heavens in the front yard of
A home for spastics, beneath which
They whirled too, in harmony with
An uncoordinated sky,

As happy as they’ll ever be,
Perhaps. And then it dropped and left
Them in the lurch with giddiness
To do the same and fall, with all
The other bodies to the ground.

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