Friday, October 14, 2011

The End of the Day

You can’t cry when tears won’t come,

but you can cry when the day is done—

Lying in bed amidst your own thoughts

Counting the things you thought not of

Until this moment with all its fears

And pulsating questions,

Trying to understand how quickly life

Is passing you by without a

Double take (or so much as a single glance)

As it continues to travel

Just out of reach, like a breath of air

In the galloping wind of autumn,

To winter,

To spring,

To summer,

To once more fall in line and continue

At the same pace as before,

Perhaps even faster.

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