Final Stanza

and though we danced too short a day,
calling sunsets for a last foray
into the breathing, forgotten lore
past the bolted, stuck-shut door
through the rotting, dripping timber
underneath the arms so limber
they allow the sky to hold the earth
despite the distance and his girth
spinning faster, faster yet
now light, now dark, now dry and wet
we face extinction and don’t care
we’re busy gasping for simple air
who can keep up with Geb and Nut?
not you or I. our threads are cut
our heartsbreath weighed, our measure taken
read fast and we may yet awaken
in sunless lands for a first foray
where we will dance so long a day.

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