much as the sunflower
follows the sun across
the sky
To live an honest life we must face
uncomfortable truths about ourselves.
The sky has no center and looms over us all
Drowning in air
Walking through this
What now
What of this
How early do the birds wake?
I do not know
I haven’t asked them
But most mornings
When I awake
They are there
Already chirping to one another
A small comfort in this world
To hear their sounds
Calling back and forth
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