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A blue sun on the concrete floor

with jagged rays and yellow dots.

I step around it by the door

among the scrawled forget-me-nots.

The clouds are moving in to stay.

The rain will take the stickman’s hand

and wash the heavy dust away

until there’s nothing on the land.

I’ve got the trash bag in my grip.

I keep my sneakers off the light.

I wouldn't want the chalk to slip

before the sky turns off the white.