Watching the sky, listening to the passing
and passing of cars, the passing of feet,
and of time in the sand on the beach,
I wonder how small I am.The weight of my body cycles with the moon,
the colour of my hair with the sun's season.That these things should change me is no surprise.
But for every action there is an equal reaction.
Do my nights of drinking worry the sun's hair grey
and slow the night moon in her orbit?
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