In This Season

Night and there is
rain in the background
hitting all the surfaces

available out of view
an invisible gamelan orchestra
of no one there

playing a song
we cannot follow to
a non-end

Machinery sporadically strums
a counter rhythm waiting
its turn, biding time
with no purpose to propose

The emptying out of all desires,
& all of day’s tasks put aside,
all love’s drama, ephemeral pauses

on the road to where we go alone
means the child and his toys
have turned to stone

When the fog abates,
euphoria is best outgrown

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