each little step
in the day light hours
growning longer or shorter
as the year wears itself out
find themselves crowded
into smaller rooms
of the days somehow
there is never enough time
though lists congregate
fill with the necesseties
of an advanced stage of existence
still there are the basics
that don't separate
from the animals
lapping at the bowl or
descending from the trees to strike
this existence so frail
and worn at the edges
this finding of our true nature
wears darkly around our eyes
there is simply no time.
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