Cycles

by Mike Acker


Each night, the sky sets the sun,
lights the moon, then listens
to the rivers below.

They tell her funereal tales
of all who come into them;
nothing escapes their ears and eyes.

Everyone and everything must visit
the rivers first, before
they head to the sky.

And then she cries,
overwhelming the rivers
with her tearful sighs.


Copyright © 2015 by Mike Acker

Home Page