The clock is blank
there is no time
just gravity pulling
hands down toward Earth
remembering the burdens
they are so smooth
heat up in the sun
rain sizzling
drops bounce
metallic
All signs flat symbols
going nowhere now
or so it seems the station empty
thoughts lost to passing
marks these black beats over white
Warm Pond at its best half moon slice
clear underneath our legs visible
kicking through it how lucky
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