people are talking wondering
what it means to be so alone
not one of the heady stars
not a single blade of yellowing grass
not even the air you breathe
heeds your presence
once (remember?) we spun out
of the shade and lay rotting
in the sun drawing only the bees
and hornets (let them be)
who wait patiently in this place
this wide land so poised
to plummet into night the red sky
hemmed with defecting geese
(c) 2020 by Hannah Six
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