white chickens, patience, age, and my hedge-trimmer cynicism
the rain is beautiful
every friendship i have,
and everything so very little stronger,
falls victim to my hedge-trimmer cynicism.
you can walk past a squirrel or a bird so many times
but when you finally stop to watch,
to take life slow and pay attention to the little thing.
it will run or fly or climb away.
the king is dead,
long live the king.
Brickfoot asked Nietzsche,
- kids used to look up to you, what happened?
- now God is silent as the snow.
but so much depends on the sword of the truth,
the breastplate of patience,
and the red wheel-barrow of existential purpose.
Yes, said Nietzsche, but you cannot step twice into the same river.
But Brickfoot did not and never
will let that stop him from trying.
For we are as young as we will ever be.
and we are nearing the age when life stops giving us things,
and starts to take them away.