One of those days where I rush
from one thing
to the next
at the beck and call
of that stubborn second hand.
But the rush is okay
compared to other seconds
when my life vehicle
might swerve madly out of its tyre tracks
and leave me…
head against the window
bruised and whiplashed
and wondering how
in all my path choices
I never saw this ugly bend.
No matter what…
even if my own clock battery goes flat
and the second hand beats
repetitively against the eight
unable to climb the hill…
even then
the relentless march
continues around me
for good or bad.
Hark. Listen
to the beat of my heart
wishing
“For good. For good. For good. For good.”
