Once the sun comes up, the sun in my eyes charges my brain like a battery.
The position of the shadows on the wall meanders aimlessly to new places like a squirrel trying to find a home for his peanut.
The refraction off of the green leaves will meet its demise when the colors change and drop like so many ancestors on our family tree. Into the ground, they go.
We’re all soiled phantoms, you know.
One day full of light and life, and soon, the Earth reclaims us.
Do you know there hasn’t been one, single human body to escape this transformation?
What happens to our light and life, like that green leaf?
The light changes.