Closing ceremony

How do you close books

that were never opened?

How do you shut doors

where light never fell?


In the sweet breath of summer

Sweat toiling down my spines-

i see,

A smell, a garden.


Swift moving wheels

like our nimbler hands

wielding worlds through words,

a smoke arises.


Sun arises in the east

and brings death to summer,

bringing out the silver shine

of a Moon gloating.


Solitary. Alone. Four-walled

death in cage of conspicuous memories.


While the leaf

drifts apart

the tree awaits.




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