16 crows perched upon a string,
not a feather moved, not even one.
16 pebbles rolling down a stream,
None to move them, no one to see.
16 leaves falling through the air.
No one to catch them, no one to care.
16 eyes watchful and quiet.
16 crows perched upon a string,
silent like the ones who saw them,
silent like those who would not.
16 pebbles rolling down a stream,
slowly eroding behind the eyes of those
who saw them leave.
16 leaves falling through the air,
returning to the earth,
leaving the world of those who saw bare.
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