Soon will come the new Moon,

running over the sky,

hurtling through space,

so slow but so fast,

arc of light,

thirteen moons and

thirteen months in a year.

Cold and numb I stand and view you. Shocked by your light,

reflected glory.

You are time,

you are a clock,

your face turned to us

but constantly changing.

If one could visit you,

like in the past,

would we see times spell,

it’s awesome power.

Our sad world.

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