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I pity the man who measures his life
in mediocre moments.
If my life must be measured in moments
Let them be spectacular moments.
Life should be a vivid variety of vibrant memories.
Each spectacular moment should resonate
With the exciting clarity of a musical note
Played in harmony with every other moment
Of my life, becoming a sweet symphony
As I pass into eternity.
But I pity the man who measures his life
in mediocre moments.
Who would want to hear his song?
Upon this morning's emergence from shadowed chambers
The huntress stalks between my limbs
Weaving starboard and port with steadied movements
So dissimilar from boozed sailors as
Sunlight to an abyss
With dexterous stride, she precedes my entrance
Into the unlit parlor, and pretentious pose unreserved
She demonstrates her prowess over kingdoms
Of mice and men
Or perhaps, simply, mice
Headless, still, it lies
Its carcass a specimen of superior conquest
By ferocious feline, a commission Sophie
Swells to execute
"Good kitty," I exclaim
And dustpan handy, sweep her prize
From the stairway to a plastic casket
While its distinguished slayer saunters away
Her task accomplished and suitably recompensed
Yesterday (a perfect autumn day)
Still autumnal day
up-ends deep troves
of golden joy
runs warm fingers
down my back
playing a smile
Clear bird song notes
intone sweet sounds
mingle with bees
in their refrain
The nectar spills
and my world
Walking through the sunshine
carrying shopping bags
wanting to be at the beach
thinking of waves washing in
but needing to shop.
Hair flowing down my back
not tied up at all
looking messy as usual
my bags heavy with food
and I'm not at the beach.
Walking through the sunshine, carrying shopping bags, wanting to be at the beach.
Thinking of waves washing in but needing to shop. Hair flowing down my back, not tied up at all,
looking messy as usual. My bags heavy with food. And I'm not at the beach.
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