The night guides and guards
Whatever it wants.
I will be afraid,
If your fear response
Breaks my barricades,
Otherwise, I will be brave.
There’s art in the sky, and there’s
Death after life, and there’s dust
Full of microbes and hunger
For others, for sunlight and lust.
These seasonal flowers are not dead yet,
But their seasonal gardeners are gone.
No one knows how life became obsessed
With being alive so very long,
Although life’s never longer than death.
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