We will all be forgotten
Of this there is no doubt
Though we live as if
A world without us
Could not exist

We grossly exaggerate
Our importance
Arrogantly
Overestimating
Our relevance
To the orbit of all
The planets
And galaxies

How many years will
Your memory remain
In the minds of men
And women?
Put your self
In perspective
Reflect on
How forgettable
You are

Stars and tears
All disappear

Sean Hunt Windermere 2016

AHHH....AMI!

"Je cherche le mot..."

Her left foot
had gone

. . .asleep.

The rest of her
still

. . . wide awake.

The net curtains
she noticed idly

needed washing

blew back
in an almost

theatrical( how
dramatic)fashion

& there
stood Death

large as life
( so to speak ).

Death itself
like an old fashioned butler

"Almost a Jeeves!"
she chuckled softly

to her self.

"Madame, if I may
...have a word?"

"Oh, Mr. Death
surely not yet...not yet?"

Death smiled
obsequiously.

"Le Roi, s'amuse. . ."

The unfinished Maupassant
falling from her hand.

you see I get you
two times a week
if it's convenient
for you
but there are times
when it's not tuesday or friday
that I need somebody at my side
but that'll never be
for like always
you don't care for me
like I care
for you

Sublime

there is not enough time
in this fleeting life of mine
to just sit and unwind
and empty my mind

there is not enough time
in this flirting life of mine
to do all the things i find
to try all the different kinds

to speed up
to slow down
to get lost
to be found
there's just not enough time
to enjoy the sublime

i love you i love you i love you
in ways i don't quite understand sometimes
how loving can feel like it hurts
that it can be so distracting i can't think of anything else
that it can lift me up in seconds
cliche, etc, cliche, etc.
i love you in new ways and in the same ways
i love you because you challenge me to evolve
and i have and i am and i will

She stands outside my blooming heart
and draws my soul with messy hands
paint mixed with my blood and sweat
blurring all the lines
bending all the rules

And she's not Monet
but she doesn't remember my face anyway
I'm just a shadow in a crowd
and just a paint when we're alone
'cause the sunny afternoon
doesn't last forever
whenever
wherever
the wind will take us away