Day 293: Grains of Days

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∴

here they come,
marching like benign little ants
that carry fortuitous loads,

heaving,
despite their small stature,
tremendous weight,

as bystanders chortle
and see nothing, really, at all.

 

’tis a crumb.

’tis but a crumb.

 

but they continue
without relent,
and advance, –

grains of days
borne on the backs of babies –

and build at the destination
of our slumbers.

 

we stack mornings
like bricks
upon themselves
until at last,

our structure
is made
and our eras pass
as complaisant as the soldiers
that built them.

∴

 

 

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