Where we don’t listen a symphony
sleeps wise toads sink
and wallow among ancient chroniclers
of summers yet to come
Where we don’t look shifting flocks
of geese smudge the sky
a blue road unspooling
toward an improbable ending
Where we don’t speak moths struggle
silently against the lie of a lightbulb
gray snowflakes fluttering
skipping across an uncurtained window
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Andrew Martinez (CC BY-ND 2.0)
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