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Sifting Sands

07 Mar

hungry hourglass happens
human helplessness–
humanity hastes, hangs, hovering
between bottomless boundaries
bouncing, bobbing buoyantly
but back below
sands sift with shifting sorrows-
sunsets sink senile– so,
how do hating humans have hope?
temporal time turns turnips into topsoil–
topsoil into tar-pits,
a tale that is told
by battling bugs boasting
of being bold beings
above & beyond
the big-bang

 

© –Limericist NOW

 
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Posted by on March 7, 2021 in Poetry

 

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