Motionlessly and outside of time, I write

Bradding molecules into matter

Before it disintegrates

Under the weight of time

I hear that we are all apples from the same trees

I see that we are cannonballs

Crushing into each other

To watch cores, turn dust

One day, the wind will rise

Pull me together, from all corners

With one sweep

I will find, but not seek


On those, who rotted away into noting

Vandalised by gentle breeze

One day, when everything is past, then maybe

Apples from the same tree…


Exempt from consequences

I write