The Many and the Much

The many and the much,
The chance to run, or touch,
The moment, and the place,
The heartbeat, with its pace,

The fabled and the few,
The everything to do,
The hammering of rain,
The cut against the grain,

The thunderstruck elation,
The time without duration,
The blending in the kiss,
The edge of the abyss,

The many and the most,
The hearts that’s overdose,
And go way past their fill,
Surrendering

And still.

Chance

A lot can happen in a moment

By chance, he saw her on the street
And flashes of a different time
When she was all, and everything,
Were seared upon his mind

In pink and pearls upon their bed,
Her blonde hair strewn around her head –
Then saw the street that he was on:
For she, just like their chance,
Was gone

forecast

… today’s forecast calls for
fair-to-partly indifferent,
with a chance of afternoon apathy…

… is what should rather have been said.
alas, the daily forecast:
it’s big on generalities
but light on specifics.

if only traffic was so light,
or the rain,
or expectations.

but both light and lightness
are lacking,
one blocked by clouds, and
the other by

acedia

and this truck