Holiness, perishability
and vanity of vanities
are the echoes of truth
in the cosmic room,
within which we are but a pinch of salt,
the salt of the Earth;
bodies of vain striving,
assuming the shape of Man,
human vessels
demanding love,
eagerly hoping,
dimly through dimness
through foliation and first frost
beneath the sun’s consuming eye
and the moon’s tacit observations
over the planet’s person-perforations;
grave-pits without needs assessment