Orbit

 Living in the twilight zone

Nothing to me seems real

It's like my flashlight is on

But the wagon's lost its wheel

There's only so much psychic space that can 

be kept upon a hill

Eventually the bowl fills up

And then it overspills

And the witches they are circling

Upon their broom sticks in the night

Tying threads

And loosening them

As we're a sleeping tight

And we orbit each other 

like planets round a sun

Passing

sometimes like ships

Sometime together

Then alone as one

Each of us is a comet

An asteroid on its way

But the orbit round the solar field

Lasts 2 maybe 3 years they say

Then they come back into

our own gravitational  pull

And somehow we collide

inescapably like a fool

What is it we are all circling?

Is is some central sun?

Or is it a buried moon rock

Left over after each generation

Is it an empty sense of self?

Space is a vacuum they say

And nature abhors a vacuum

It must be filled in any way

Life is inevitable

It must carry on

Death just recycles

Energy back into the sun