There are Hearts;
gone; a list of
out to no one;
a gray sky ubiquitous,
the entire world trapped
under its heavy gaze,
are we placid? O, without serenity...
if we put these hearts together
the pieces left all over the ground,
a didactic lesson of lost and love,
of here and there,
of dear and found,
would our sorrow make the slightest sound?