Let it roll in from the west
bearing the cleansing torrents
of rain unleashed upon us
without regard for who we are,
our small concerns, our big hopes,
the million little vanities
we throw high-up before us
into the charged atmosphere
to see if hurricanes may blow them
this way or that way but far from view,
far from who we think we are
when we confuse not only foolish men
who are, themselves, already
well-enough confused, but also draw
the wrong conclusions from the storm.
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