The hawk turns in widening circles high against the cerulean sky

Eyes downcast; a shadow counting time as it passes.

The axis always moving.

Car wheels spin past, never escaping their orbit

while the world unspools beneath their axles.

Their hubs flashing in the sun.

I walk these streets, turning back upon myself

My thoughts returning to points behind me

while the future pushes past like a river.

The sun continues its arc across the sky

The night rolling up behind it, a gaping mouth

pursuing the radiant host from east to west.

How many revolutions does it take to change the world around me?

3 thoughts on “Revolutions

  1. Well if all you bastards are doing this, then I’m going to have to put words together in my trademark bad sentences too. Are we all back on the fucking wagon?

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