the days pass in forty-eight and a half

the gold-grey light of the sun moves south with the clouds from canada through the windows and across the walls, strange furniture shadows, and if he gets lost deep enough life feels as one of those time lapse movies, where you know momentous things are happening in the breathless tableaux before you…

…nitriled hands clearing fresh placentas pinkred as sunrise, buttons and zips buttoned and zipped, morning coffee on morning lips, lunchboxes swinging full, laughter, tears of children, honk of horns, move, move, cash, coin, laid in so many flattened palms, lifelines branch, doors swing in, out, papers fold, unfold, boxes, drawers, mouths, open, close, teeth chew, tongues work, words, so many words, sounds, so many sounds, all stripped to love, hate, and everything under the sun, until it sinks fiery into the soft curve of the earth, and darkness grows, breaths slow, lips slacken, and the end is a fading, quick or slow or somewhere in between, depending where you happen to be on earth…

…but you can only lean back and remind yourself to care.

Last updated October 15, 2016