The Unintended
to begin
it is an inevitability
that the sun shedding angrily will
kill the green pleasure of
my brilliant hill
its ghost sun quietly circles below
in a dreamy caressing whiteness of its own
I become an unintended dreamer
of a pond
I am caught up in a vicious glare
of my own doing
they curve away drop from me
their furiously beating wings
begin and end in seconds
from one side of the road
to the other
they glide
to another pond
no bigger than
the other
yet
no less
essential
JPPestana
The Unintended
2.25.2022
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