Unmoved

It is not my place to regret
the turning of the earth
upon its axis, nor to mourn
the passing of the year,
the starlight winked and blinked
across the empty spaces,
fallen, finally, at our feet,
and gone.
It is not for me to grieve
that which is undone,
nor that which cannot be
undone, while
the world hurries heedless
past the sun.

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