Only the occasional hum of traffic
from the highway, like buzzing
of an insect barely heard, tells
that the world of humanity
still exists in this frozen, dim
silence of the penultimate
July morning, and one can
ask whether we should be glad
that the machinery of the cosmos
is still turning, that the curtain
is yet to fall or ripped away from
before whatever lies beyond.
30.07.2024
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