Unnatural white light
forces breaking to slow
to gawk
to wonder
what is now new along this highway.
Small white stars dot the immediate landscape
to aid yellow dinosaurs and orange men
to tear into earth
to construct things hard and cold
and inevitably doomed to crack and crumble.
Red break lights cease talking to my feet
and the chiaroscuro castings no longer illuminate
the green of spring budding of junk trees.
I am left to be patient;
a rare request in this Ritalin-prescribed world:
in a few hours our warm star will again make an appearance
to cast its ambient glow
and remind us we are nothing
and everything for a moment.
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