it's falling,
gently drifting
down.
they call it pure
and beauty.
what harm
can come from
seeing elegance?
gliding down,
silently, but unceasingly,
self-advertisting
everywhere,
in the streets,
the homes
of people, nowhere to go,
trying to sleep.
no disturbance,
for them, primarily,
of their dreams,
until they don't stop
dreaming in their slumber.
and we can see their beauty
everywhere.
but others have to pay
for us,
all so we can see
pure.
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