memento mori

on a windy day

secret creatures roll out

to the streets to play,

careless of oncoming traffic

that illuminate the hill,

and strike my mirage broken.

the streets are still lonely

and there are still only

dead leaves, not creatures

tumbling dry on broken pavement.

the wind rocks me over

warning lines that shake me

and in my safe cage i forget

memento mori. memento mori.

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