“doors are always closing and parts of yourself are left behind them forever.”
Caitlyn Flanagan*
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or are they?
she departs the school playground
with her two little boys in tow,
never to return
for they have left the elementary life behind,
the children have gradated to
a higher level of schooling,
differing challenges,
and thus, she reflects…
as the mirrors of our lives
periodically are exchanged
for changing perspective
of our selves
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even as we progress,
we nonetheless turn our necks
for backward glances,
at the distances traversed,
ever dimmer as we time travel through space over
always rushin of time’s currents
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this ritualistic departing
repeats the process of segmentation,
constant conversion of present into past,
and future into present
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invisible but realized lines of demarcation
are both subtly and bluntly created,
we exchanges milieus,
we act in different roles,
we do not understand always the why,
but we recognize the fearsome quiet of loss and of forfeiture,
as the perpetual flow of quiet eroding tides,
moves us about, forwards, sideways and even backwash backwards,
willingly and unwillingly
to different beaches
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sometimes events force us to turn back,
taste the past,
which we may or may not
fully recognize or even recollect
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did we close these doors behinds us
did we leave, or exchange parts of us thereby?
some of us, who overvalue the unknown possibilities
of roads ahead, life’s perpetual entrepreneurs,
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and some of us,
go back repeatedly,
excavateurs
like me,
sifting the sand and soil,
the rocks and fossilized débris,
to better comprehend,
excuse, explain away,
the who of what we are today,
and are becoming tomorrow
from the clues of our
happenstance
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3:23AM
5.11.202Sexto
restlessly resting while explicating
the future from the past