Moments

There are 1440 minutes in a day.

The nurse tells me my heart beats

80 times per minute – 115,200 a day.

So many moments, exacting products of distance

multiplied by the charge of absent love.

* Though a “moment” is an inexact measure of time, in physics, it is something that can be calculated using a formula.           {\displaystyle \mu _{n}=r^{n}\,Q,}
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Snow Time

Marking the day by the piling snow.

Breakfast dusted the grass and speckled sidewalks.

Lunch soup, and a blanketed picnic table.

By tea time, pillows on lawn chairs.

Night baffled and warm, a world asleep.

 

At Fourteen

At fourteen, I thought less about the future
and, unaware of Buddhism, lived in the moment.
Even a day was usually unplanned, spontaneous,
open to what the universe had planned for me.

If life is like a sonnet, the turn occurred when
the future became my focus and the present
rushed by out of control, and the past
became nostalgia, a read book fondly remembered.

At fourteen, I believed, without proof, in eternity.
The days unfolded unbidden and I was content
in thinking at some point I would be able to see

That fourteen-year-old’s future is my present,
slipping away from what I wanted it to be,
and even partially my past, now already spent.