A View for Those Left Behind
Every morning,
Hope returns to the world.
Those who mark the day's arrival greet it,
Leaping out,
Moved by instinct,
Spreading wings,
Carried by the movement of others.
All waiting leads to this—
When the earth regains its vitality
Fallen leaves become fertilizer
Years flow past like water.
Caught between the two lines of days
In a black and white portrait
Endless, unmoved, unchanged—
"What is the meaning of greeting the sunrise?"
My sun is already down.
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