Divertimento

What goes from A to B
and itself never turns
 
but turns A into B
and back to A in turns?
 
What brings a divertimento back
as leaves turn to carpet

and trees start to ache
in rain turned grave-side sleet?

What drives us on to B
with our faces turned to A,
 
and why do divertimenti

only distract, and finally dismay?

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