Monday, March 26, 2012


With stops and flow the morning goes
A swirl of movement and of time

I grasp and slipping it declines
To stay and give me anything
Except the feeling I should have done
Much more and listened to the time
Which leaving momentarily
Renews itself, brief clarity

Right now I have; no second more
I sweat to wonder in its glare
Still moving day creeps through to night
Removing any chance of light

With stops and flow the evening goes
Slowing movement, never time

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