Hysterical Change

Did you hear that?
That rattling.
I hear it there.

Wind braiding feathers of flight

Over mountains and valley

Of crystal grain.

Screeching scouring beaks in search of scrap.

Ships asail riding currents of hugging breeze.

It’s just that beggar there,
Wanting only feast,
Nourishment of
Mind wandering dumes
With only life of sun

No one for miles it already

Feels.

Has felt.

Since that penny
All alone has stared
With words laughing,
pointing,
shrieking.
Rattling.