I’ve lost you.
Moments befell, where opportunity congealed,
A brief interlude of chance,
The crossway’s of possibility.
Now I’ve lost you.
Receding on the horizon, a mote of past opportunity,
The paths follow their own reason,
The road is empty,
The heart is heavy
The paths unending,
Why do the legs keep working?
What is this shuffle?
The onward kafuffle,
The never ending horizon.
Chances are things to grasp at,
I would think, slippery suckers,
Like diamond film.
Why is it that the universe is expanding?
If it was shrinking would time run backwards?
What is this forwards shuffle?
I’ve lost you,
Perhaps our paths will cross again,
Serendipity is the rarest of fish,
Hope the road ahead treats you well.
Damian
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