“Humans start”
Humans start in different orbits
like planets migrate over time
across different seas of love
the distance is immaterial
the wind inside the weather
touches a piece of fruit on a tree
and its short story is detached
the distance is immaterial
vanished by a summer rainbow
you lie in bed and remember
the distance is immaterial
rounds changed circles changed
space gathered up on a black map
what you really hear is gone.
© 2016 Rob Schackne
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