The Machine

The whirring world spins and sputters
The machine is alive for another day
My lungs fill with the refreshment
Of the freezing, seizing rain

Coffee warms my throats and head
Fighting off an anxious dread
Dizzying winds make heavy the sodden air
But I’m not in the machine, near as I am to its lair

Photo by freddie marriage on Unsplash

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