A Thought During a Routine Morning Jog

The sun rising behind an overcast shell
whitewashes the cliffs with glare
as gray waves pound incessant erosion
while at the horizon there is unknowable calm
but here is only crashing chaos and salt spray
and inside, worse.

I fantasize for one, wild moment of
leaping into the empty embrace of cold air
to fall,
and land wetly.

Then it passes, and I'm on my way home.


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