“Rivers One”
Time moves in the short wave.
Do I dig it in its time?
Oh hell yes I does.
It moves slowly, does it
The end,
Comes quick, faster than imagined.
I thought about dogs wandering,
Maybe cats looking for something,
Not us, God, not us —
There was a time
I found myself in a Cubs uni,
Throwing curves to the likes
Of an A-Rod, curling a strike
Toward a de Gea.
But enough with that.
Time moves;
Carries you youth
Flowers I cannot name
Callow women and men I shall never meet
Carried us all on its current.
It refuses to stop, that.
Be it the Thames or the Rock,
The river respects us not.
She is older than any of us,
Will die well after we do.
So we beat on.
Currents against an implacable stream.
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