Ember

We cannot predict.

One second.

One blink.

Or a fraction of.

That may be the end.

It is always difficult to comprehend.

Fate offends.

Having endless time – we like to pretend.

As it feels

like no time at all , we reckon.

That could it. be ,

a hundred years.

or one second, that the fog had smeared.

No matter the time –

before the setting sun…

it never feels enough when the day is done.

Trust –

in the infinite weight of

dust

and that our blood will turn

to rust.

Photo by Zoe Holling on Unsplash

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