water song

There are seeds afoot
trees dying aloft
lost kids looking
to join with
looking kids lost.

There is an upward welling
grief with no thought
not to dis-spell or navigate
nor a chemical whispered drip

no where to fore
no neutral neural return
aside from an averse
tilting of the bubble

Level.
Balance.
Only relationships
states of dancing asymptotes.

The key cannot see
for eyes tend to line
yet making dew
with plausible thunder
we move as a chorus
inside, outside and under.

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