keskiviikko 16. huhtikuuta 2025

THE FLEETING SELF

I'm not my future, ever receding.
I'm not even this one writing,
futilely trying to anchor myself,
and ever making the future past
at this always escaping moment
of "now"; no, I'm something
made up of my past, memories
and experiences, always reacting
to that "now" a few seconds late,
trying to ride this life to an end
that is as far as possible. One
day the future stops receding
and lies in ambush, waiting.

30.12.2024-16.04.2025


Verse #Verse Poetry #Poetry Poems #Poems Poem #Poems

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