I may let the wind
Take me on a flight
Into a space I know
And over a thought I often
Had
I may ask the clock
To keep its arms apart
Like I did once
In a train station
In August
I may let the flow
Guide where I aim to go
Hoping to not again end up
Where I have already been
And when I get there
The wind may die down
The flow would become a pond
And the clock would rewind
Itself
As I have done
Every August
Since
October 9, 2017
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2017
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