a poem

Image for post
Image for post

I reach

and just when

I think I’ve found it

I come up empty

it was right here

on the edge

of perception

just reach out

and take it

but it’s a phantom,

a shadow

that slips away

just when I think

I’ve got it

life?

love?

purpose?

no,

it’s time

Written by

father, motorcyclist, old retired guy who’s just a little lost on a blue marble corkscrewing its way to oblivion

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