Oh God,
it hurt like **** when I saw you downtown,
just why,
was I in the right place and the right time?

turns out the finish line can run as agile as you,
you chase,
you race,
you have a goal which keeps going away,
you waste
your time,
but that is fine,
because it’s better to bloom forever,
then become a flower and go dry,
the following day,

I try not to cover the sky with those illusions,
so I go and lie on the beach,
(on three beaches)
and when I’m not,
I wear my earphones in my garden,
Norman ******* Rockwell! is playing,
the sun is descending,
sinking at a pace,
with a purpose,
in style,
just exactly how I live,
how I rip calendar pages off,
thinking how well days go by,
in my forever quiet town,
aside from the city lights,
where I bloom peacefully,
without pursuit,
expecting nothing from tomorrow.