Sometimes our thoughts chase each other
Like dust devils, twirling
Growing with harried friction.
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That is inspired- dust devils which cloud the night hours and yet are nothing- and I love 'harried friction'- the sound and oh yes the meaning. And of course fear is an empth husk and yes those thoughts cling and won't let it go. You have caught so much pain so coolly and seen exactly how it vanishes....got a time. Thanks Anita.
yes, they are a mess, forming thoughts and loosing them at the change of the wind. sometimes if we are lucky though we can hold on to some of the remenents and salvage some of those thoughts. good imagery. T
Wonderful metaphor and wonderful poem10+++++++