I belong to the shoulder seasons
those times of luminance wherein the air changes colors
We each have our place
those boot resting niches
If we can each see ourselves
in the twilight in the fullness of the moon
wherever despite the brightest sunlight
there are no shadows
If we can shout our amazement
at the blackened eclipsed sun
we might find our peculiar truths
we might rediscover those parts of self we dropped on the way to this place
When you look into the waters of the breaking waves
there is no reflection
unlike the face that looks back from still dark ponds
What has changed contains outlooks not to be set aside
not now
on these times of uncertainty and vast confusion
where we stand on the same brink of what lies ahead
mostly convinced we are each elsewhere
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