(Lest We Remember)
The October wind strips the trees,
Exposes the relentless lamplights;
Their garish glow takes over once shaded streets,
Gives them the monotone appearance of public restrooms.
Although it is still two hours before sunrise,
I cannot see the sky for the streetlights’ glare,
So I must imagine it full of falling stars,
Each trailing its own bright thoughts behind it.
And in your own arcing fall into grace
Will you completely disappear, like many I have known,
Become a transitory meteor that never reaches earth,
Your very trace erased by this damnable, ever-present light?
Will you burn yourself out in memories of what you were,
Become an all too brief history that precluded your possible futures,
Or will you strike the ground hardened and black,
Freed by forgetfulness and the forgiving dark,
Full of alien elements and ineluctable dreams?
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