Heavenly bodies in transit.
No, I don’t mean us riding the bus.
I refer instead to a magisterial procession,
Precisely measured and observed,
But not grokked.
Perhaps this motion can be felt,
But not known,
Uprising through the soles.
So.
We take our places earnestly or
Flippantly, but dance we must.
As planets move, so move we.
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