are there
are there
leaves that are falling on another world
around another star
another autumn
its length dependent
on the eccentricity of its orbit
yet here
i am walking up the shadow of a tree
pulling the petals off a child’s daisy
to be left
with the propeller of a war plane
oops a daisy
another one (million) bites the dust
over there
white faces dusted by a desert bomb
faces as grey as the aridity of a planet
too close to a star’s fussion
you are musing
minimal gravity is a light thought’s mite that
never dusted the reserve of a dark library shelf
quiet now
come on light out
time for bed
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