Cycles

Rotten flowers caught between the window and the drapes. Forgotten like an absent mug of tea. A sad yellow stain where vibrance once reigned.

I’m breathing like a dirty telephone call as I push forward through another abandoned house. The cycle of spring begins anew— this time— vibrance lives within the blossoms of sakura and children that scamper through the streets. The end of the school year is here.

As always— there’s an afternoon moon sitting high & bright over the ocean. A quarter of a million ways away. Spaceships depart from the moon at speeds of 25,000 miles per hour.

How fast do comet’s speed through the sky? Do the rocket ships drop like benevolent meteors back out of the sky?