about the sky,
no ode to moon
or brazen wind.
Nature died
in 1989 but
no one noticed.
Mobile lumps
of tainted clay
lumber through
what remains,
sifting the ashes
in a pathetic
search for god.
A vague rumor,
urban legend
lurking often
in the corners
of consciousness,
God was a tree,
a rock, a cloud.
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