the world gives.

it gives and gives.

the world gives.

the skies fill with grey smoke

and I can't tell

I can't tell if the tears runnelling 

down

are smoke tears

or are they tears

shed for the loss

of every mossy stone?

for every single thing

I have ever known.

the wheel turns.

it turns and turns.

the wheel turns.

I vainly thought

it would not

grind my bones.

10/18/2021