I Am a Passersby
I am not a wandering star whom the dark gloom envelopes
I am not a cloud empty of tears and blown by barren winds
I am not a wild wave on the sea foaming up saliva
I am not an autumn tree empty handed and cut down
I am a cloud-topped tree flowing with honey in my veins
I am a shooting star breaking through the angels' grasp
Copyright © David Hyatt-Bickle | Year Posted 2023
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