Poetic endeavors can be tricky. They can point to a deep reality or they can be like a tangle of vines obscuring the light. Here are some of my offerings.
Friday, November 18, 2011
No Time
Rushing forward into the day, time compresses.
Approaching the maximum speed of my own life,
I feel the Dopler effect crushing against me.
Against this force, I can only reach backward,
Collecting what I can as this life speeds me away.
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