Anng Rowe


We think of ways to brighten up our days,
To make all the calamitous things disappear, travel,
To stop them from throwing themselves in your direction,
Tearing, grazing your mind like skin to gravel.

Endlessly fighting them away
As they continue to fall on you like heavy drops of rain.
Their storm-clouds overpowering you,
Speeding up faster, so much, too much like a train.

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