ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 3
ON THE WORLD
this world is one
flying away
approaching never becoming
the gray clouds
that send it rain
water soaks it
more keeps rushing
through the air
till it runs off down and away
unlike the poorly-thought-out
heavens this world is pelted
with discomforts
we don't have to imagine
that it is weighed down with griefs
it is
but it keeps flying
and we stand on it
and hold our hats
with both hands not to lose them
and walk more spraddled
with each passing year
grief heavy enough in our hearts
to keep our feet on the ground
and bring us into it