I'm drinking in the last bit of time
I have left until I cant go back
to the ease and difficulty of memory
when life flutters past in the form
of the butterfly that used to
always escape capture from our nets
I know not the sounds I will make
that may leave impressions
in the air for just a short while
I'm still unsure which foot goes
in front of the other and how many
steps it takes to ascend from here
all that may lead us from now on
are the unknown and the guessed
futures we received from paper fortunes