the entirety of the vessel is held by one line

the humans
mark the passage
of time.

excited
by a newly arrived
human.

saddened
by one that has
left.

the ground is
filled
with our bodies.

the humans
put markers
atop the ground,
markers
to remind ourselves
we exist.

giant fingers read
the bumps on a plain,
each bump
a mound
where a body
is housed.

the humans
mark the passage
of time.

it’s a
new year,
say
the humans,
it’s different
than the last.

outside,
the year
is new.

outside,
the wind gathers
water into wave,
slaps it against
whatever
is there.

a white orb hangs radiantly from a thin branch, everything soft, gray, out of focus.

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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