Each minute moment in one minute,
seven lined in a row, 11:53 through to midnight, not inclusive-
that sixty-some seconds belonging to another day.
What could be said within and about those short moments,
that small bit of time
but that
they fleeted and fell away while he watched
and wondered from where they all came and then went.
Did they play themselves out all over elsewhere?
Could one moment have many lives,
if only it never returned to the same place,
never to be counted by the same heart more than one time –
time cheating itself, becoming eternal by moving forever about?
Would this same second show up someplace else, to be counted again?
What could he say about time, but that the one who counted it
was also the very one who whittled it down,
chased it away,
and wondered then wherefore
it went?
This is quite wonderful Mike. I love it! I am going to try to commit it to memory so as to take it with me into another minute full of a moment from another time. 😊
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Thank you Suzanne! I tried to write it i about 7ish minutes, as a writing sketch exercise.
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I keep hitting send early! I removed a spare ‘it’ already but am now wondering if it should have stayed 🙂
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Sounds like a fun exercise and you were definitely successful!
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I like sketchbooking I suppose 🙂
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I should try it. How do you do it exactly or is it different each time? 😊
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Usually i just run low on time and then decide to try writing something anyway in the time remaining… it feels like a kind of writing exercise, when there’s a hard time limit i think!
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Ok, thanks! As I’m low on time these days I will give it a go!
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🙂
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