inside until it is time to go... we delay the
end-of-time as long as we can, feeding it
our daily scraps as an incentive to remain
at bay... time heals they say... but what do
they really know... especially since as it
passes, it takes with it one's most vivid
memories... leaving all the others behind;
time sits on the back porch patiently waiting
for the setting sun and we pass it daily
on our way to having fun as age creeeps
up our legs like a snake of poison ivy,
and we scratch until it is blistered, finding
ourselves at the doctor... outside of time
we live when young as if it does not matter
if and when the day will ever end... if it ever
really ends at all... remaining in our imaginations;
time paints itself into a back porch corner
while it sits upon our shoulders gazing through
our screened-in environments with us,
hoping this is not the day that we go... and,
when we feel the light inside us burn brightly,
we burst forth into its illumation, regardless
of our age... seeing life for what and all that
it is... a precious gift and possibly more
as it gives us something for which to live;
time lives on the back porch and never comes
inside... but, it is always there in our minds...
lurking... and we are always there feeding it
our intentions until we can no longer dealy
the inevitability of our own passing deaths.
18 October 2021
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