the lost moments
the bullet train that blazes ahead the day at work, all aboard, the pace is something to behold, or to dread, or to embrace, or to blink, and it ends, I try to take the lost moments and make them mend or at least carry, carry through like a photo or a token of a memory, or of something pleasant, the moment before I get in my car in the morning, before I hit that commute, throw my arm over the window and gaze, before that usually awful drive like bumper cars that never meet, except some do and that just causes delays for the rest, the sick game of in and out and the rush and brush, the lanes, the change, the tolls and the toll, so no, before I get into my torture capsule, before that trap, I take a moment, whether the weather permits or not, to soak in the sounds and sights around my humble suburban life, there is always something around, a least a squirrel, or a robin or two, something that moves, the tops of the trees in the backyard swaying perhaps, the smell of fresh leaves or grass, something, something is there to be grasped, a refuge from the iron clad and concrete monsters that await my fate, so take those lost moments, give them a home in your mind and heart, for even an instant can be the start, a mental locket and so store them there, and when the human jungle begins to encroach, fight off the inevitable with those lost moments.