(In)compatible

Time runs uniquely to two
In circular or straightforward fashion
Like bright ribbons that stretch into the distance
Perhaps never meeting
Perhaps meeting when one is too newly dyed
Perhaps meeting when one has frayed for quieter spaces
Ah, what meaning is there to think:
If we had only met earlier or later?
The now is all that matters
The now is the miracle or the great sadness

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Author: redgladiola

Creative writer happily predisposed to flights of fancy. You can find my poetry and short prose at https://redgladiola.wordpress.com

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