In fresh morning air
the breath of life,
like
a mist
of spray starch
on a clean white shirt,
was crisp and quick;
ready for any task.
With the passage of time
I’ve stuttered and stalled;
lost focus and fallen behind
even in my own expectations,
but life goes on.
So I must continue
to smooth the wrinkles
here and there
in the fabric of my life,
handle the unevenness
along the way,
finish the work
of the day,
before the evening arrives
and the last sunset,
low and red in the sky,
simply…
takes my breath away.
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