in the dying days of summer's haze
in forgotten faces of places
where the past reminds and the future hides.
the atoms in my body
are billions of years old.
they have existed as long as life itself;
I'm just the latest assembly.
I love those quiet mornings,
up before the world
and everything is possible,
after the eels.
The day always comes,
everyone else catches up and it slips away,
but it is glorious while it lasts,
before the world takes over.