Time, time, there is always time —
Until, of course, there is no time.
Flat, hyperbolic, elliptical;
Two of three applicable to whatever today is “fitness.”
Yet this is spacetime…
Four squirrels and a chipmunk fighting.
Nuts of a mundane variety on a paint-chipped deck,
An October afternoon of no consequence,
Watching rodents eat things,
Pondering the timing of Lag B’Omer.
The universe expands forever or contracts;
A spot of nothing on a towel of nothing —
Better to be Omar or Littlefinger;
Smell the tide before it changes.
Yes, the ice smells great out here;
You should give it a chance,
Frozen and forgotten, just like song;
Play it again for me, will you?