The same sun then
Shines here
I almost feel the same too, except
For the counteracting spheres
Of this world
Roughly sweeping my life’s shards
Under the dark tints
of cold trees.
Broken and sweaty
Sun shines on these shards
Now damp and cloudy
Unlike the clear loud voices
Yammering pointless
Things in the morning
Night
Noon
Perhaps rain will come
And make me less opaque.
But, what guarantee
Can I receive
When all I do has no
Place, no trace of light or silver
In this shining field.
I’ll stop looking for the
Small ray flowers to
Run away from
Dandelions in spring.
