As
hatchling turtles cross the sands of time,
safely
reaching the eternity of the sea,
as
the child swings higher, and is lowered by
the
force of gravity, higher, lower, repeat,
as
the car motors down the street,
its
speed excels and slows with pressure to the
peddles
applied by the feet,
as
the tree grows, the wind blows, the rain
freezes
turning into sleet,
one
revolution of Earth, and the day ends replete,
as
the drum synchronizes rhythmically to a
cadence
of the heartbeat…
Heat...
Greet...
Treat…
Sheet...
As
time passes, the monotony of this rhyming
is
destined to retreat
as
at last (and it was bound to happen inevitably),
the
boy and girl finally meet,
and
the application of this preposterous amalgamation,
thank
God, is nearly complete.
This
exercise of mine should have ended where
it
began, when the hatchling turtles
made
it safely to the eternity of the sea.
And,
I trust you and I agree, that is truly
a
story worth repeating, speaking existentially.
Chris
Hanch 3-11-17
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