Parading

The trees stand firm, the houses we live in

To be made whole

A year has come to us as though out of hiding

Everywhere I go is a road and a mirror

Let the / desert bloom through ruins we can look out of, let us

So much of any year is flammable,

The world will keep trudging through time without us

The night thick enough

but how will we, still alive, socialize

What if we stood up with our synapses and flesh and said, No.