Glory stale from sitting out
Sun-baked days/clouds part to rays
This is god we're talking about
Pantry full of promise
Window-sill-shaped pie
All the chefs that time could conjure
Pointing towards the sky
Sandy moon magnificent
Wet-earth home so calm
Hunger pang (or so we sang)
A poem, not a psalm
Orbit everfleeting
Spinning into waste
This ample feast becomes at least
a chance at my first taste.
Particular Words in a Specific Order 
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