Long After, I am Gone

The world will not stumble.
The stars will keep their fire,
and the music—
the music will go on
playing in the room
long after
I am gone.

 

Two Manners of Flitting

In the garden,
a butterfly hovers
over a flower—

maybe a second or two
before moving on
to the next.

It moves in search of
life-nourishing nectar.

Me,
I do not know
for what purpose

my mind flits
from one thought
to the next.

 

The Refresh

Looking for something
to hang itself on,
the restless mind
reaches for the screen
to check the inbox,
count the impressions,
or tally the thumbs up.

Would a self
truly peaceful within
feel the urge
to do so again,
and again,
and again?

 

Victims of Impermanence

Two days ago
you said you loved me.

Today,
you avoid my eyes.

The friction will pass,
but until then,
we remain
victims of impermanence.