6/07/2018

​even in the ruin of time
somehow the world goes
on carrying its old gravity
around a star that may
have adopted us by choice
or by chance
we will never know
but here is our small
compartment on earth
we bear our choices
as if branded:
to love or not, to be
tender or selfish
to step out of our
doors and feel the rich
grass squeak under our feet
or to bury ourselves
in dark closets that 
smell of old shoe leather.
all except for time
which we cannot choose
which runs ahead of us
then, one day unexpectedly
runs out, our feet
dangling in the temporal
air, where we will wish
if only for an instant
for another choice.