Friday, February 27, 2015


running through life and airports
we dream of nothing
more than a moment
to pause, an instant

to reflect on every other  
harried happenstance
that has left us
bereft of perspective, cut off

from our souls; we are like
tops staggering as we near
the end of all this
spinning, still straining to go

round, willing these final
revolutions before everything
stops and we go
to the ground.

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