Season, the season
Has U bent and turned
sniffing at dew
At its own winter-tracks.
The rock to the sky- edge
Remains glued
Though its shadow
Has tumbled and fall'n.
***
The grey long worm track
Boring through vista
Transporting me to
Some fossil-xanadu.
If not for this heart beat
The quiet would be complete
If not for the breathing
Silence's worth nothing.
***
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