Thursday, February 27, 2003

Does an ebb take its toll on the soil? Does it pull and draw claw marks? Does it take all that is worthless and leave behind all that should never be? What next? Where now? How far?

Unfeeling touch and blind sight. Never stopping, never asking, ever knowing. Of long years of habit and endless tomorrows. Maybe and maybe not.

Unconscious gestures. Two fingers clasped on the handle of my coffee mug. Traipsing feet on the floors of my night. Three speed-breakers fifteen metres apart.

What do I keep of this life?