If left up to me
we wouldn’t stand a chance
The sun would hit my skin
perfectly
just once
and I would stand there
in its heat and radiance
for months
I would forget rest
forget the night phlox,
moon flowers, and primroses
The earth would have no night hours
If I woke up
from that daydream,
I might catch one sight
of the full moon,
forget it is sometimes new,
for 24/7 host evening church
on my patio
and every sermon I’d write
would be about Cinderella,
missing day drinking, and midnight;
wax, wane (and destroy) just words
I can’t recall the meaning of
This is how
the world will end
A collection of single bodies
moved by whims,
forgoing the seasons
for instant gratification
Maybe if we circle back
to the beginning
everything could just be
temporarily out of order
Forgetting forgiven
every time we remember

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