on this, the last day of the world
she wants everything to be the same

everything must be the same

the coffee cup waits for the computer to boot
the bean pot bubbles
the mailman makes his way down the street
the bus stops and goes

she dusts for the millionth time
as though she can make routine eternity

she stands
every day
at the center of a vortex
her arms outstretched
east and west
her dining room
a henge
one hand touches sunset, the other,
dawn
twice a day
the crystal centerpiece
explodes

she turns the never ending planets

the flag in her heart