a sound, just beams drifting down

through gathering clouds.

can be a weakness, in each

weakness is a strength.

practice, the sun still takes all

day to cross the sky.

too sour, you must have been picked

before the right hour.

block every exit, does it

make sense to shout “Fire!”?

Death’s probably the nicest

guy you’ll ever meet.

it all or nothing? Sunlight

glints from just offshore.

all this is gone. Indeed, it’s

been gone all along.