The Sun doesn’t set

Nor does it rise. No,

It’s just me, we, us,

The World, turning,

Spinning, slowly, inexorably,

Away. Then, at That point,

Turning again, once and ever

Towards.

Rising we sense, yet

Turning always, over and

Over. Not this,

Not that. Yes this and that.

A  gain and,

Again. “Two crows sitting on a

Fence, one is named Pete, the other…”

Perpetual

Motion. Wonder

Full.