Landing On Days End

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A form still stands

color etching around

and throughout its branches

we see halfway between now

mountains speaking earth

a camera sensing light

a trees ghost holding friends

words too empty to tell

of all that comes and goes

stands and then sinks back

consumed by nightfall—

perched amidst stars

waiting for one to rise

songs to tempt colors return

from an ignorant abyss—

in this silence

waiting was worth

waiting for