The past, the past,

the rigid place of regret

that bears down like childbirth,

but nothing is born except

the delicate taste of bitterness.

 

And the future is just a whim

of fancies dreamed and what

may be on another day

that also bears down

but from the other way.

 

So I live here in the only

place I can really  be,

right here in the contractions

of the living, breathing, now.

 

17/11/2016