Monday, January 5, 2015

The Rock Held Back by the Half-Dead Tree

In the canyon where the campsites sit
Since the canyon was closed to tourists
Spirals track. Traced from the perspective
Of planetary astronomers,
Those uncertain, inbetween beings
Prone to wandering past all the rest
Of everything from the beginning
Of life on this rock without leaving
The calm, celestial neighborhood,
My motionlessness feels erratic.

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