My narrow yard gets to celebrate
The new moon and the quarters
Never full in winter spring or fall
But in summer it overflows
We drown in torpor
The thing about sunlight
Is it’s never not present
Even at night it shines through the earth
Penetrating our sleep and deciding
What we will be tomorrow
We think we’re better than forests
That we can out-talk oceans and earthquakes
But every night the sun passes through us
Cresting its river of stars
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