Tis
the season. Daylight dwindles with
each
passing day. Grasses are green yet
growing
less and less. Out of earshot,
the
ice caps are quietly melting. Beyond
sight
and sound changes routinely abound.
One
day mimics the rest, and the subtitles
are
often too numerous to detect. Just
because
we did not hear the branch crack
in
the wind, did not see the flee on the
dog
doesn’t mean the possibility never
was.
A malignant cancer is detected too
late
and fate is determined before a treat-
ment
could be applied. A lie is still a lie
even
though the fool should firmly believe.
The
Earth is turning beneath our feet, my
friends,
and our grasp of reality seems firm
as
concrete. A blind man sees only that
which
he is imagining.
Chris
Hanch 10-1-18
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