By The Grace Of The Sun Poem by Erwin Maramat

By The Grace Of The Sun



For all I know we were strewn across galaxies

and caught in the day's misty light

we are ghosts before we even know;

drifters of shedding tides.

Plugged into greasy machines that wheeze

for the wearing distance with which we burden them,

morning after wretched morning;

again and again.

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