every hour, every ticking
tocking clocking hour

every minute, every single
loathsome laborious minute

these same distant stars
refuse to dim their rays

this same frigid moon
fails to shatter as it should

and why do I have to know?
what could it possibly matter?

my skin freezes in the wind
yet my heart stubbornly beats

still counting the hours
still counting the minutes

as another crack appears
in the stolid face of the moon

Salt Lake City 24 Nov 2012

6 thoughts on “counting

    • You are too kind, T. Sometimes in these pages, words, moments it is still possible for thoughts to converge. I hope your thoughts are tending in a hopeful direction.


    • Thank you for this. I know my experiences are far from unique, and it is a comfort I must admit to know that in this journey I am not alone.


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