Choice
Time just burns away,
at times,
like a small log
in a bonfire.
Easy to watch
but too hot to grasp.
Anyway, the ashes blow away
before you even have a chance.
And you look to the sky
Maybe a glow,
a sparkle,
or just blue,
still,
and you can’t hold it.
Eyes gaze upward
near to infinity
but the feet
ah, the feet,
stand firm
on solid good earth.
Between the toes it gets,
It feels and can be felt
EB 1979
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