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Mercurial
by Baldwin C. Newton
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Coming Weather
by Allan Peterson
By the time wind arrived,
the weather had changed color.
In our conversations, updrafts
were downdrafts, shear.
Beginning in blue, the pliable wind,
bendable as light in glass,
had gone gullback grey,
grey as a windless lung,
as in a dreamy fear of falling
when you know the wind
would be suddenly thrown clear
on impact, your body limp.
We did not see what changed,
but in our talk a threatening
weather began from high pressure.
And whatever disagreement it was
turned overcast and unpredictable.
Like a rhino wasted by ignorance,
everything seemed about to be
discarded for the horn.
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