(I'm not sure when I lived / Indiana)

Counting The Ways, Counting The Days

Mid point, half way over
or is it?
as the minutes grow short
reflection takes hold

rumination begins in earnest
taking stock of what is
and what might have been
within the frame of half a century

the hustle and flow of lifes rich pagent
sometimes leaves one by the wayside
wondering why, always why
the esoteric and spiritual

gains new importance
when one feels the tangible slipping away
each day, the gray replaces what once was
the lines of time become clearer

and one dreads what they see
in the mirror, yet life hasnt gone away
we have merely kept it at bay,
waiting for what else it brings

that next big thing,
hopefully a bang
and not a whimper.
Go not quietly into the night

stand and fight
and live forever.

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Comments (1)

Conjures imagery like a burning car going into a car wash. What's the result? A very clean burnt up car and a complete waste of 7 dollars.