Incisive as the moon
Looks down
You can almost see the new-old souls
Drifting toward the earth
Like dandelion fluff
While the old-new souls are carried up
In the highs and lows
Of the weathers of heaven
I try to calibrate their numbers
For a given month and find
They chart a vortex in an ellipse
A little swirl in a stone
That betrays the mind
That carves this moon
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