I sense now
we are all on an orb-ride.

Slow down, dance
the waltz in space with our star.

I was old before I knew that
these were suns too.

We are near in light or
dark from far away.

Somewhere it’s forever morning
while elsewhere twilight forms.

We fall more than we orbit,
than we bargain for.

Like a coin comes to rest
in the dying throe of its wobble.

Chagall 2018

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