the speedometer that measures the
acceleration and deceleration of
time in our lives journey is
remarkably similar to the one
we employ in our vehicles
intra moment we can move from
slowness to rapidity in minuscule
amounts of seconds, all the while,
those few bursts of being high, are
parcel of a longer cross country trip
that could be calculated in years,
decades, even life-spans
though we lack the visual imprimatur
upon our eyes of our exact speed most
times, we always have in our possess
a notional beginning and ending
we take a trip to grocery store, up/down
to NYC, fly to Paris just because, and return
home to bury and burn loved ones,
witnesses and fellow travelers to the
longer segments of our irregularly
configured continuum
here, you sigh, why, do you trouble us
with this obvious observation when
we have so much to do, so many roles
to don, and the kids need milk for cereal,
which is a thirty minute round trip that
should have not been necessary had
we “organized our moments of movement
far better organized!
perspicacity.
this word has been mindful for me for a
days, while bits and bobs, of a poem’s
composition blurted up and out, in
some disarray, while the mind, tries
to collect them all, all for one, for
later collation and an unknown
destination
the wisdom to see down the road.
to plan accordingly, when we can oft
not* see around the next corner,
or even the next single steps we “plan”
to take, made without any thought
thereof
is there a poem in here, somewhere, Oh Sinner-man?
perhaps…or, just an indifferent end?
