In Between the Minutes
And the hours.
In between the minutes and the hours
There are special times unaccounted for
The intricate times and interactions
If disregarded can end up on the floor
Remnants of important conversations
A random act of kindness and goodwill
Moments in a trance within nature’s beauty
When considered all good grist for the mill
Defining moments can smudge the real story
Intricate webs are woven in embroidered detail
To understand the convoluted intricacies
It is like a blind man rediscovering Braille
The footsteps in my mind tell the stories
Imprinted though often misunderstood
They are parts of the logic and understanding
And avenues of memories where I stood
As the minutes days and years evaporate
Like flowing rivers of silver mercury
The ephemeral understanding of existence
It is an operation of delicate surgery
Sorting out the papers on the table
Filed in places that will soon be out of sight
Will I still remember the fragile intricacies
Or like another day will they fade into the night
The patterns issues and the arguments
It turns into a detailed structure and a story
That’s written ready to be discovered
The melody is woven into the inventory
©
David Rudder
2023
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