Gathered in a silent warehouse,
Banking off of subtlety,
Building thrust on borrowed
feet
To stand, to walk, to jog, to
run.
Sprouting wings as if to fly
on
Whiffs of light angelic air,
Climbing to the jet stream
where
Her boundless energy can
ride.
Now the flow cannot be
quelled.
Now the air can only bend
Concentric circles one on one
To wrap around, around again.
Trapped inside this angry
vortex,
Miles and miles from hearth
and home,
Seeking merciful protection,
Waiting for the rage to end.
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