Stuck

 Half past seven here in the evening,

Could be past eight. I wouldn’t know,

Sedentary under a crescent moon,

Following from above the bus.

Through vast wilderness as we move

I reach closer listening to the mountain’s words.

The fading life to the facing light perishing faster in the window than I could grasp.

So I ground my anxious feet and place my heart around the battle.

I still have several nights to waste; before I deliver the message to the bears.

I’m a passenger stuck between these haunting miles,

When I had time I wasted raiding honeybees.

But I still have several nights to rest before i convey the message to the bears.

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