Recognize your worth.

Hold it, like water, cupped, in hands upturned.

  Be careful. It slips through.

Epitaph for Apathy:

Here she lies, beloved wife of Lethargy, 
loving mother of two lazy children. 
"Art and politics, are best experienced from far away. 
Fire is hottest close up."

Time Passes

Time passes

That’s what it does

Time passes like an impatient driver passing in the left lane.

Revs the engine, glares out the passenger side window

Time passes.

Precipitation falls.

That’s what it does

It falls, racing to the ground, to finally rest, to hit the pavement, settling, only to be summoned again, not ready to ascend but up it goes. Time waits for no droplet.

Future happens.

Future happens when you’re busy sitting on a chair, cushions surrounding, fingers flailing, clicking, clicking.

Future happens when, inspired, poems distract you from the task at hand.

The task at hand distracts you from the future, (the present) and so it goes.

Time passes.