Seconds, seconds, seconds.
What an odd sort of thing -
The way we let our lives tip.
Step and pace so cyclically.
A song that speaks,
A plan that rips,
A path that swerves,
A spoon that stirs,
Stairs to the stars,
They might be -
What an odd sort of thing.
Stumble, stumble, stumble.
I'd like to see
A moment in its glory
With all the detail of the unseen.
It is a mere dream,
A silly hope,
A curious heart -
What an odd sort of thing.
Atara Gedalowitz
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-an-odd-sort-of-thing/
