NaPoWriMo, Day 28

Time slips by, quiet as a cat slinking on soft, padded paw;
mysterious as morning fog, vanishing like a ghost
when the lights flip on;
quick as water, seeping through an open palm.
I’ve spent so much time trying to catch it & hold it
in my hand, tinkering & adjusting like time is as tangible as a wrist watch.
Then one day I woke up & three decades had flashed
before my eyes like death.
But I’m learning that it’s ok to start from scratch—better now than never.
All I can do is let time sweep me up
in its current instead of sitting on the shore, rooted in regret.
Let go, the river says.
And like a burnt leaf in November,
I detach from the comfort of my stagnant limb & fall back onto the water’s
dancing surface, trusting it to carry me forward,
trusting myself to take in every moment.

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