I haven't much time before I have to get in my car and drive to a basketball game. It seems as though I've been watching my entire evening in a rearview mirror, everything speeding by too fast for me to really see it.
I've shoveled. I've picked up a pizza from Pizza Hut. I ate dinner. Watched an episode of The Big Bang Theory. Now, I have to drop my daughter's friend at his house, and then I have to go to the high school gym to see parents yell at their children as they play basketball.
Saint Marty needs to slow down a little.
by: Robert Morgan
This little pool in the air is
not a spring but sink into which
trees and highway, bank and fields are
sipped away to minuteness. All
split on the present then merge in
stretched perspective, radiant in
reverse, the wide world guttering
back to one lit point, as our way
weeps away to the horizon
in this eye where the past flies ahead.