Saturday, December 23, 2017


What if Swift’s flying island
Wasn’t floating but falling,
In for the long fall,

The way that the moon
Has been this whole time falling
Spin by spin away from earth
Out into eternity

Or might as well be?
Ordinary life
Is like that flying island

Falling slowly as the moon.
Tonight, another evening,
Crescent moon through the window,
And the ground coming closer.

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