Wednesday, February 03, 2010

Always too much time.

Rock still in stream, no - pebble bobbing along. While sky colors above. While slowly riverbanks crumble or grow. Still, flowing. Maybe mote of dust in cloud, in raindrop, in snowflake. Maybe glacial boulder. Maybe concrete block upon concrete block. Still, poised to fall back into earth. No escape for pieces of earth, always too much time for weariness.

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