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Dec 2018
dried leaves whimper
bullied by the wind

then thrown away
to a place they
will be crushed

disintegrated

stars scream
when they die

but we can’t hear them
until years later

I walk outside
to smell the night air

it smells like ice
it feels like spice
on my skin

another asteroid is
approaching

one day it will
not miss us
John Destalo
Written by
John Destalo  55/M/Harrisburg, PA
(55/M/Harrisburg, PA)   
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