Orbit

Little Spud in the Big Apple

We’re floating through it all, you know?

by “it all” I guess I mean some  scattered

particles

here

and

there

We’re just a larger bit of condensed-ness

falling

asifthereweresomething
thatcouldpushusapart
otherthanourownselfishness

we think of our invulnerability

launching fire to the heavens

crushing great comets

preparing to bleed them dry

knowing that it would only come down

if it were close enough to us

If not, it will

simply

fall

away

from

it’s origin

an expelled seed

a cherry pit flung

toward some unknown target

And I sit and wonder if you think of the destination

as I do, as it does, as they did,

as the realization slowly grows within,

that home is an unattainable concept

ever in sight

ever out of reach.

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