• All the same, then

    0

    Preachers in their revered outfits—
    Talkers roam the streets,
    push the wind
    when wind
    becomes more wind,
    and wind become words.
    Some dare even
    to blow their own:
    witness, platitudes in
    playing fields; soaked
    by the scorching heat.
    Many are dazed
    hypnotized, even:
    the newly-blown winds
    sweep over their
    drenched spirits.
    Change
    is coming.
    The winds
    blow even harder.
    Destitution
    becomes fertile land
    for the road less trodden.
    It is here
    that the winds blew forth
    a new hope, a new glimmer
    a new light—
    That shone on them
    like the last ever did.
    It was then that
    they shrugged off
    put everything to chance,
    and sighed,
    “all the same, then.”

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