Through the netting I watched the physician, resigned, prescribing.
He stopped writing, looked out. Shock drained him.
The sea had gone. Death was arriving two weeks early.
He fled, alone, as though he could save himself.
Meri von Kleinsmid used this poem in a small corner of her piece Wu Xing, transmitted in Framework on Resonance FM on 7th December 2008. It’s on the Framework podcast.
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The Anger Of Water Three Flawed Viaduct The Mere Of Ice Cold War the brick the brickthe pattern brick
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