Parading

Every mass in the universe is pulling on

Nothing is coming but what is already here

We are here for what amounts to a few hours,

This moment, mortal as you or I,

The Puritans thought that we are granted the ability to love

The sky was the color of a cut lime

Half past twelve. How the time has passed.

A single thought takes light years to articulate,

when the very placement of the stars