There was a time
when time was real --
when a traveler might head out
for a destination with every
expectation that he would
arrive to such a place as
was lodged in his memory...
Only to find a desolate place --
overgrown and vacant --
cold ash long blown from the fires,
intermixing with the soil.
If one's journey was long enough,
one might wonder whether everything
had been fine when one set out,
and whether tragedy had struck
and nature reclaimed during those
long days on the trail.
The first week of October.
sprawling tree,
laid asunder by its own weight:
a crack plus time
What’s your favorite time of day?
Mornings. I’m a lark. It’s when I’m at my highest energy level.
the clouds retreat,
revealing hilltop ruins:
a ghost in stone.
Forever -- is composed of Nows --
'Tis not a different time --
Except for Infiniteness --
And Latitude of Home --
From this -- experienced Here --
Remove the Dates -- to These --
Let Months dissolve in further Months --
And Years -- exhale in Years --
Without Debate -- or Pause --
Or Celebrated Days --
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Dominies --
chartreuse Spring leaves
tick their way toward matching
the evergreens.
Reading, thinking, and learning.
How do you waste the most time every day?
YouTube. I usually go there in a productive pursuit, but then fall into the rabbit hole.
seated on the wall,
beside the rushing creek,
the world slows.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 