Five narrow lines with black dots
which dance up and down.
Running or lingering slowly.
Pausing sometimes.
It all depends.
Making notes of my life,
telling my story.

I’m sitting on a thin line
Moving up slowly,
or quickly,
or plumbing the depths.
Falling off sometimes,
falling down between the lines.
It all depends.

Moving forward relentlessly, though.
Slowly or quickly.
It all depends.
But getting there in time,
slipping outside of the spotlight.
There’s no avoiding
the crescendo dying away
at the end.



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