Things Go... People Die...

mother
sun, center of your planets
revolving and spinning
orbits holding
upon the imaginary
poles

distances make
memories more
apparent

hospitable thoughts
come to the rescue

what you must know
is this:
there is more beauty in
your own
sorrow

mother
sun, soon fades,
darkness in your
universe
reigns,

but the stars
still flicker for you
when,
as expected, mother
sun is
gone.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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