Thursday, June 23, 2011

Meditation on Finite Life


Life sits there like a fact,
all fat and naked, long gray hair,
rouged lips and beard –
as if whatever she or he will see,
has all appeared already –

holding steady for rejuvenation, though –
which always comes –
and always goes –
expanding into throes
of numerable generations –

not infinity. Someday, in some vicinity,
fat bearded lady life will sit down
to what he or she expects to be
another cup of tea and neither tea
nor she or he will be.





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