time ticks the day closed, i watch the clock's door
for any intruders into my world, my career, my life;
i am most comfortable just as i am, no change needed.

that moment, the one that flew by without my notice,
is the one i brought a net to catch, grab out of air,
claim as my own, sit; establish a mine for the ore.

then build moments of my own, stall days so still
they will be stick-figured pears and apples; fruit.
as i snare the moments, they will eat of freshness,
of juice, of protein to build stong minds, hearts.

smithing, forging all futures for all coming mankind;
but can a reed stop the wind? stop the second hand,
a crack in futures'movement will sway, finally settle.

07/28/2008

Posted on 07/28/2008
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan