Push and pull
like a wave
tides to the moon
the way she goes-

All equators
on the line
in balance
and yet the colour is
off.

Twists in the
branches of fate
may break, fall in the
road, shatter on
the fork.

but with my plate
so full, I cannot clean
it.

I fear starvation
I worry for the coming winter
I cannot store
for I am already frozen.

A stone cannot hide
For it cannot
Feel.

I am not a stone...
But I wish
I was.