Friday, December 30, 2011

Like a bird.

Time's flying by, like a bird through the powder blue sky.

And I'm just a slow-moving cloud, staying still.

Time's floating by, a great oceanliner crossing the sea.

While I sit on the deserted island nearby, watching.

Time's a leaf plucked free from its branch by the cool winter breeze.

While I stay attached to the aspen, hanging limply.


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