|Every year in December, I wonder at these|
|Slowly slowly down to ground they bend|
|Against the sky, visited by birds until gone|
Compare/contrast another sphere putting on a show over Camelback Mountain on my Sunday ride, rising up, glowing bright, showing off its monthly cycle while I'm on my daily.
We're all just turning here. Returning, and slowly fading in the sun. I gather into a sphere, and orbit the canal on my bike.