It looks up from peering down,
frightened and expectant – kneeling –
nervous hands assess the ground –
looking for assuagement: feeling
for what’s fallen, what might fall,
for what’s risen, what may rise – to stop the breaking heart of all
that threatens to implode the skies!
It’s all in vain. Blank entropy
will drive the whole thing to a halt.
Anxiety is, was, will be,
does what it does. It’s not its fault.
.
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