The crack of dawn

Through which dreams

Leak away is

The whip sound

Of necessity

Which drives the day.

You cannot flee

Serendipity that roars

To free the creatures

That scurry out of dust,

Out of rust that may disgust

Simplicity, complicity

With necessity. The pulse

Of impulse cannot be denied

Whether the brain, or the gut

Nudge the fudge of indecision

Is of small concern.

The turn of time stirs what occurs

Into fate that must collate

The crash of trash to decorate

The future with the past.

No need to heed what seed

Might sprout of what turns out.

What is is. The fizz of continuity

Blossoms into perpetuity

To shove away another day

Which dies in bloody sunset

With regret or relief.

One day is brief, a minor thief

Of time to forget.


One thought on “Duration

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