Too Soon

the world is mad,
gone crazy
with impatient desire
to be beyond
where we are;

I stand in the sun -
my skin on fire -
searching for answers
within its light;

its too hot
the world moves
too fast;

across the weathered fence
is a car that has not moved
in two months,
its stillness is suspect,
I expect to see it
silently gone,

instead it is the driver
who has moved on
from this place
too soon
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Nothing Guaranteed

each breath is a gift,
our hold on existence -
at its best -
is tenuous,
we control so little
of our fate;

we lack ready reminders
of the fleeting nature of
of our lives;
when they do come
they often surprise,
ripping holes
in the fabric of our souls,

if we stop to embrace it,
this pain
will reinforce our impermanence,

there are no guarantees,
we must live well
in the time
we are given
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