When I Could Do Nothing

In this passing moment,
in a world of mud
and bleached skies.
With stomachs pallid
and unrequited.
I carry on, floating
through the air.
From stone to cloud,
eastward or westward.
Cutting a swath
through bones of stillness.
Until the spring nights,
glittering and dancing.
Buzz like children
playing , and multiply
to embrace the
summer shadows.

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