mornings not longer crash in on me
as they did when working,
from rapid fire to slow motion
they have become...
memories no longer remembered
now are lived large
in the fleeting moments
of their existence
passing - all too quickly
into the illusive, not repeated past.
coffee in hand... always coffee,
a never changing constant,
take me to the porch - nature
an outward sensation
very easily internalized...
calming and quiet
no sounds around... except
for the ringing in my ears,
an implication of old age and
the never-ending reminder
I'm on the short end of life.
December 24, 2025
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