daylight hours are too fraught, still
less than evening's piqued replays,
and my hip clicks walking near the
ears of the seated; i'm an amazing
thing. here, deep night comes into
play. life for most is suspended, a
pool in two dimensions, while the
fewer number brave grateful sighs.
tho paucity of sun will block sight
one might grope around to identify
the very young and going old and
otherwise awake n' hopeless ones.
by Donna
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