Zen
Jul 25, 2017 · 1 min read
Tomorrows and nagging
yesterdays
drag, they
draw and quarter:
dawns and sunsets
after one another
now and then,
when the walk
loses its value —
Here and there
makes no matter,
my child —
find your feet.
Step after step,
feel your soles beat,
upon dust.
There, unto dust, find
and lose
the milestones —
here and now.
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