I drift over the endless city
over the highways and houses
strange how no one notices me
but then there are a lot of us
aloft today some dead peering through
and the usual sleepers and children
like kites trying to escape
I come here often to keep
the paths clear between the worlds
you’d be surprised how many
line up here to be recycled
or to be rekindled
torched again
with that vagrant fire
that makes life possible below
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