Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Scambled Eggs

We forget in the sedateness of our advancing age the relentless passions of youth, how that all is yet undone, time yet a fluid which escapes around the edges and by nature seeks the cracks and flaws. We cannot live in concert without becoming, old for new, wise for callow, patient for perplexed. What we have become we must also bring back; or else keep the purchase of life--not by our will in the first place--from the ultimate beneficiary.

I am an egg falling
my abode a moment
all but eternal

No comments: