Other world

At the edge of a parking lot,
not a lovely meadow,
under phone lines and light poles,
the sky the underbelly of something
sleeping, not waking soon,
a faint sound lifts your eyes.
A flock of geese pass over,
talking among
themselves of far off places
and old stories.

Encompassing this one,
a whole world lives
that you know nothing about.
It does not go on without you.
Even the parking lot is changed.


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