It’s time we accept it’s over.
Wave after wave until the reserves run dry.
Sundries spoil when left unattended.
The hoot of an owl rarely eclipses the night.
Levity my brother- levity…
Breaches in the bow of the birch tree.
Branches bereft of the factory.
Over and under the skyline.
The church claims us all in the end.
Awkward, and looking for an excuse to be alone.
The flutter of fingertips rattles the ribcage.
In accordance with the Calendar, I rejoice.
The meaning is simple-
As they say, ‘this too shall pass.’
And this too shall pass.