Saturday, October 4, 2014


The sidewalk under us just shifted
The air is charged
We need our sweater, then our jacket
We liked yesterday better
We always like yesterday better

Sometimes we're allowed to inch along
Shuffle our feet, tend the roses
Sometimes it's the shock, the think on our feet, the pilot license
Either way it leaves us breathless, beseeching
Wanting the smooth ripple
Fiction so real we can almost smell it

There's no more startle
In the derailing, the freezing, the choking, the baby stepping

The blending, the weaving, the making new things old
That’s the crescendo, the clanging of pans, the pageantry
Our crowning achievement, all of us
To have done it once
Then wake up, Olympiads, to do it all again

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