LIFE LINE

Photo by Dan Meylor

The age of eighty is fast

approaching.

I runinate on that moment.

In a few days

of clock time when

I cross into a new time warp,

watch my life line whirl

and wobble against the bars

of time blurred,

read the end of the line

playing out above

the exit sign

flipped in reverse,

cracking my enlightenment

like a whip, that

one moment on the life line

is as sacred as any other

moment.

I draw breath

knowing that any inhalation

requires an exhalation.