Waiting For the Sun
Sun follows a path blistered with clouds
Pillow soft, cotton white, shredded ghosts
Hung like magic in the sky
Cut by golden light, evaporated into day
Rounding out life the sun comes full circle
With weight, becomes too much
Plunged into darkness
Sooner or later to set on us
No particular design to find tranquility
It goes on and takes us with it
Gravity works that way
Even from a distance
Each orbit takes a turn
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