Lightning hits a rock—
breaks it.
River rolls a stone—
rounds it.
Hail pummels the ground—
pits it.

Each one describes itself
not realizing shared origin
and mineral.

Rain soaks—
a seagull,
a meadow,
a desert sand,

realizing no difference.

People gather—
as three,
a crowd,
a million,

each feeling they’re more
than the rest.

One person.
One day.
One grave.

Each one standing
as if unrelated
to the other.



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